


Terror ✮ Jerome Valeska [1]

by nogitsunechey (animechey)



Series: The Valeska Saga [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Gotham (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-07-17 08:02:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 39,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animechey/pseuds/nogitsunechey
Summary: Accalia is the adopted daughter of Detective James Gordon, but her true lineage is simple. The daughter of Galavan roams Gotham's streets and none realise it. Her being alive is a miracle, after all, she has killed many a man and woman to get what she wants.She has know the 'Ginger Maniac' for many years. The psycho who killed her parents is basically her older sister. The big 'brute' that killed his entire family is the older brother she never had. The schizophrenic male will eventually come clean about everything, and that's what she is waiting for. The cannibal just creeps her the hell out.Some things never change, and that includes where Accalia's heart truly lies.© nogitsunechey || January 2018





	1. Disclaimer

**Hey superwolves!**

**I know. I have a lot of other stories to work on, but this one has been bugging me ever since I watched the first season of _Gotham_. I had to get it out some time.**

**Alright, as you know, I have written a short story called 'Second Best [Gotham]'. My friend convinced me to make it into an actual book. So, you can blame this one on her if you'd like.** **When she came to me with the idea, I decided to make it a Jerome Valeska book because, come on, who doesn't love the Ginger Maniac? He's an obsession of mine, and so is his goddamn twin brother. Thus, here is the new story.**

**Before officially starting this story, I'd like to say that none of the characters of _Gotham_  belong to me and all credit goes to DC Comics and the creators of  _Gotham_. All rights and ownership goes to the creators of  _Gotham_  and DC Comics.**

**This story is purely fictional and a** **ny similarities to past or present events is purely accidental, as with any similarities to people whom you may know. All characters that do not belong to _Gotham_  and DC Comics are of my own creation and are not to be copied under any circumstances.**

**No events that should happen to occur in this story are to be copied in any way, shape or form as I have worked on this story for ages. If any part of this story is found to be in another, or if any of my characters have been taken and used in other stories, then you are going against the copyright laws and can be fined.**

**\- Chey xo -**

**_© nogitsunechey_ **   
**_January 2018  
_ **


	2. 00 ✮ Story Details

** Cover: **

** Description: **

Accalia is the adopted daughter of Detective James Gordon, but her true lineage is simple. The daughter of Theo Galavan roams Gotham's streets and none realise it. Her being alive is a miracle, after all, she has killed many a man and woman to get what she wants.

She has know the 'Ginger Maniac' for many years. The psycho who killed her parents is basically her older sister. The big 'brute' that killed his entire family is the older brother she never had. The schizophrenic male will eventually come clean about everything, and that's what she is waiting for. The cannibal just creeps her the hell out.

Some things never change, and that includes where Accalia's heart truly lies.

© Chey Eveleigh | 2018

** Preview **

I giggle, swinging my legs back and forth from my place atop a desk. "Jerome, when are we going out again? It's boring sitting around and doing nothing worthwhile."

The ginger looks over his shoulder at me and smirks, his green eyes flashing dangerously. "What do you have in mind, little terror?"

"Can we kill someone? We haven't killed anyone since the news building." The heels of my feet thump against the solid desk.  _Thump thump. Thump thump._  Just like a heart. "It's been so long, and I'm sure the fear of the Gothamites has disappeared by now."

"Hmm. Maybe that's a good idea." He spins around on the desk hair and places his hands on my knees, sending warmth through my upper legs and making me raise my eyebrow at the touchy ginger. "However, there's no time for that."

"Why not?"

"We're going to kidnap some cheerleaders."

My face twists in disgust. "Preppy, posh cheerleaders make me sick."


	3. 0.50 ✮ Playlist

**Demons - Imagine Dragons**  
_"Look into my eyes.  
It's where my demons hide."_

 **Centuries - Fall Out Boy**  
_"You will remember me.  
You will remember me for centuries."_

 **Monster - Skillet**  
_"I feel like a monster."_

 **Call me the Joker - Caleb Mak**  
_"Call me the Joker. More like Casanova."_

 **Everybody Wants to Rule the World - Lorde**  
_"Welcome to my world. There's no turning back.  
Even while we sleep. We will find you."_

 **Control - Halsey**  
_"God damn right, you should be scared of me.  
Who is in control?"_

 **Mad Hatter - Melanie Martinez**  
_"We paint white roses red -  
Each shade from a different person's head."_

 **Circus for a Psycho - Skillet**  
_"Got your finger on the trigger;  
You think that you're the winner."_

 **Carnival - Rachel Rose Mitchell**  
_"Forget about your pain.  
We live to entertain!"_

 **Heathens - Twenty-One Pilots**  
_"You're lovin' on the psychopath sitting next to you._  
You're lovin' on the murderer sitting next to you."

 **Sail - Awolnation**  
_"This is how an angel dies.  
Blame it on my own sick pride."_

 **Toxic - Melanie Martinez (Cover)**  
_"You're toxic. I'm slipping under_  
With a taste of a poison paradise.  
I'm addicted to you."

 **Dysfunctional - Tech N9ne**  
_"I'm a beast, better give me the deuces.  
I have no tolerance for nonsense, get away from me."_

 **Enemy - Blue Stahli**  
_"I'm breathing in, I'm breathing out.  
I'll be the enemy."_

 **Smells Like Teen Spirit - Think Up Anger ft. Malia J (Cover)**  
_"With the lights out, it's less dangerous.  
Here we are now, entertain us."_

 **Emperor's New Clothes - Panic! At The Disco**  
_"Welcome to the end of eras. Ice has melted back to life.  
Done my time and served my sentence.  
Dress me up and watch me die."  
_ _**_  
** _ _"Heroes always get remembered, but you know  
_ _legends never die."_

 **I'm a Wanted Man - Royal Deluxe**  
_"I'm a wanted man. I got blood on my hands.  
Do you understand?"_

 **Super Psycho Love - Simon Curtis**  
_"Got me trippin' super psycho love. Aim, pull the trigger._ _  
_ _Feel the pain getting bigger. Go insane from the bitter feeling._ _  
_ _Trippin' super psycho love."_

 **Savages - Theory of a Deadman ft. Alice Cooper**  
_"_ _Just animals that can't be tamed, we're all just savages._ _  
_ _Never know who you can trust, how far is hate from love._ _  
_ _Turn on you before you turn on us, we're all just sava-savages."_

 **Break Stuff - Limp Bizkit**  
_"First one to complain, leaves with a bloodstain._  
_Damn right I'm a maniac. You better watch your back."_

 **Hypnotic - Vanic x Zella Day**  
_"You took to me so well. Hypnotic taking over me._  
_Make me feel like someone else. You got me talking in my sleep."_

 **Gasoline - Halsey**  
_"Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me?  
Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?"_

 **Let's Kill Tonight - Panic! At The Disco**  
_"Let's kill tonight, kill tonight._ _  
_ _Show them all you're not the ordinary type."_

 **Wires - The Neighbourhood**  
" _You knew you had a reason. It killed you like diseases._ _  
__I can hear it in your voice while your speaking you can't be treated.  
___Mr. Know it all had his reign and his fall."__

 **Monsters - Ruelle**  
_"You've got no place to hide,  
And I'm feeling like a villain, got a hunger inside._  
_One look in my eyes,_  
And you're running cause I'm coming going to eat you alive."

 **Monster - MILCK**  
_"Chains all wrapped around me, around me.  
__Try to break free from the darker part of me."_   

 **I'm Gonna Show You Crazy - Bebe Rexha**  
_"I'm tired of trying to be normal._ _  
_ _I'm always over-thinking._ _  
_ _I'm driving myself crazy._ _  
_ _So what if I'm fucking crazy?"_

 **I Just Wanna Know - NF**  
_"I just wanna know oh, oh, oh, oh.  
__When did you get so cold oh, oh, oh?  
__What happened to your soul oh oh oh?"_   

 **Crossfire - Stephen**  
_"Heaven, if you sent us down  
__So we can build a playground,  
__For the sinners to play as saints,_  
You'd be so proud of what we've made."

 **Jerome - Zella Day**  
_"_ _He was a quiet man with blood stains on his hands._ _  
_ _The silver kissed him with scars so heavy. I waited patiently."_

 **Serial Killer - Lana Del Rey**  
_"Baby, I'm a sociopath. Sweet serial killer_ _  
_ _On the warpath, 'cause I love you just a little too much."_

 **Arsonist's Lullabye - Hozier**  
_"All you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach.  
__Don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash."_   

 **Breaking Point - Bullet for my Valentine**  
_"_ _Everybody's got a breaking point._ _  
_ _Nobody wants to see that side of me._ _  
_ _Stop pushing, 'cause I won't back down._ _  
_ _Nobody's gonna bring that by me."_

 **Crazy = Genius by Panic! At The Disco**  
_"_ _If crazy equals genius, then I'm a fucking arsonist; I'm a rocket scientist._ _  
_ _If crazy equals genius, you can set yourself on fire,_ _  
_ _But you're never gonna burn, burn, burn._ _  
_ _You can set yourself on fire,_ _  
_ _But you're never gonna learn, learn, learn hey!"_

 **Devil in Me by Halsey**  
_"_ _You said I would've hit the ceiling. You said I,_ _  
_ _You said I should eat my feelings. Head held high."_ _  
_ _-_ _  
_ _"You said I'm too much to handle. You said I_ _  
_ _Shine too bright, I burnt the candle. Flew too high."_

 **Car Radio by 21 Pilots**  
_"_ _My lungs will fill and then deflate. They fill with fire, exhale desire."  
__-  
__"_ _Sometimes quiet is violent. I find it hard to hide it."  
__-  
__"I'm forced to deal with what I feel. There is no distraction to mask what is real."_   

 **Bad Moon Rising - Creedence Clearwater Revival**  
_"Don't go around tonight. Well, it's bound to take your life._ _  
_ _There's a bad moon on the rise."_

 **I Need a Gangsta - Kehlani**  
_"_ _I'm fucked up, I'm black and blue. I'm built for it, all the abuse._ _  
_ _I got secrets, that nobody, nobody knows._ _  
_ _I'm good on, that pussy shit. I don't want, what I can get._ _  
_ _I want someone, with secrets."_

 **Bodybag - Hit The Lights**  
_"_ _You're gonna need a bodybag, I'll break bones you didn't know you had._ _  
_ _When I'm done there will be nothing left of you_ _  
_ _For your friends to hold on to, when they find you cold and blue tonight,_ _  
_ _Face down in a parking lot."_

 **Teenagers - My Chemical Romance**  
_"_ _Because the drugs never work. They're gonna give you a smirk_ _  
_ _'Cause they got methods of keepin' you clean._ _  
_ _They gonna rip up your heads, your aspirations to shreds._ _  
_ _Another cog in the murder machine."_

 **Walk On Water - Thirty Seconds to Mars (Acoustic)**  
_"_ _Can you even see what you're fighting for?_  
_Bloodlust and a holy war. Listen up, hear the patriots shout,_ _  
_ _"Times are changing"_ _  
_ _In the end, the choice was clear - take a shot in the face of fear."_

 **Sucker for Pain - Lil Wayne, Wiz Khalifa & Imagine Dragons w/ Logic & Ty Dolla $ign ft X Ambassadors**  
_"Take my hand through the flames. I torture you.  
__I'm a slave to your games (I'm just a sucker for pain).  
__I wanna chain you up, I wanna tie you down.  
__Oooohh, I'm just a sucker for pain."_   

 **War of Hearts - Ruelle**  
_"Come to me in the night hours._ _  
_ _I will wait for you, and I can't sleep_ _  
_ _'Cause thoughts devour, thoughts of you consume."_

 **Youngblood - Five Seconds of Summer  
** __"_ _Remember the words you told me, 'love me 'til the day I die?'  
_ _ __Surrender my everything 'cause you made me believe you're mine.  
_ _ _Yeah, you used to call me baby, now you calling me by name.  
_ _Takes one to know one, yeah. You beat me at my own damn game."_

 **Blue Jeans - Lana Del Rey**  
_"I told you that no matter what you did I'd be by your side.  
_ __Cause Ima ride or die whether you fail or fly._ _ _Well shit, at least you tried.  
_ _But when you walked out that door, a piece of me died.  
_ _I told you I wanted more - but that not what I had in mind.  
_ _I just want it like before, we were dancin' all night.  
_ _Then they took you away - stole you out of my life."_

 **Dangerous - Royal Deluxe**  
_"This is how it's gonna be. This is what you'll think of me._ _  
_ _It's going down like I told you. This is how it's gonna be."_

 **Beautiful Crime - Tamer**  
_"We fight every night for something._ _  
_ _When the sun sets we're both the same._ _  
_ _Half in the shadows, half burned in flames._ _  
_ _We can't look back for nothing._ _  
_ _Take what you need, say your goodbyes._ _  
_ _I gave you everything, and it's a beautiful crime."_

 **Tonight You Are Mine - The Technicolors**  
_"Thought I heard you call my name._ _  
_ _Thought that I could take the blame._ _  
_ _If you could have it all, why do you want me?_ _  
_ _So let me slip inside your ultraviolet disguise._ _  
_ _The daylight holds you close, but tonight you are mine._ _  
_ _Mine, mine."_

 **Partners in Crime (feat. Ash Costello) - Set It Off, Ash Costello**  
_"The skies are black with lead-filled rain_ _  
_ _A morbid painting on display_ _  
_ _This is the night the young love died_ _  
_ _Buried at each other's side."_

 **Flesh - Simon Curtis**  
_"You put your hand up to my neck and feel the pulse._ _  
_ _Beat, beat, beat, beat._ _  
_ _It's like a trigger getting ready to shoot."_

 **I'm Gonna Do My Thing - Royal Deluxe  
**_"_ _Can't you see that you cannot control the man I am.  
__I am not a puppet on your string.  
__So maybe you should check yourself  
__Before you tell me what you think of me."_   


	4. 0.75 ✮ Cast

**Kaya Scodelario**  as Accalia Galavan-Gordon

**Cameron Monaghan**  as Jerome Valeska 

**Chloë Grace Moretz**  as Mandy Queen   **  
**

**Cameron Monaghan**  as Jeremiah Valeska 

**Robin Lord Taylor**  as Oswald Cobblepot 

**Cory Michael Smith** as Edward Nygma 

**Crystal Reed**  as Sofia Falcone 

**Erin Richards**  as Barbara Kean

**Ben McKenzie**  as James 'Jim' Gordon

**Morena Baccarin**  as Leslie 'Lee' Thompkins

**Charlie Tahan**  as Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow)

**Benedict Samuel**  as Jervis Tetch (Mad Hatter)

**Nicholas D'Agosto**  as Harvey Dent (Two-Face)

**Anthony Carrigan**  as Victor Zsasz


	5. 01 ✮ Beginnings

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

The colours are blinding and the music is making my ears hurt. Laughter and screams of unadulterated joy can be just heard above the piercing music. It's a cacophony of sounds that seems never ending, and I don't know how anyone can stand it, let alone live with it. People who live in a circus are usually borderline insane or have already become insane. Hell, those who come to visit must be borderline insane as well. Who in their right mind would be here? I know. I am, but I'm never in my right mind.

The music and cacophony of sounds begin to fade as I make my way back to the trailers. The air no longer reeks of sweat, vomit, and candy, and there are no stumbling humans ramming into me and demanding for apologies that I will never give. There is no one back here, well, almost no one. The screaming of a woman can be heard, and I can tell that she is pissed. In more ways than one. The shattering of a glass object as I near a familiar trailer makes my hair rise. She's at it again.

"You are a good for nothing bastard," Lila screeches, throwing something. It hits the door and I jump back as it flies open. "You shouldn't even exist!"

My eyes narrow at the scene in front of me. There is shattered glass layering the floor of the trailer and there are trails of blood, fresh and dried, running on the walls. The familiar sight of the circus' Snake Charmer standing threateningly over her son makes my blood boil. There is a broken bottle in her hand and, from the blood covering the young male, it looks as though she has been having her way with him for some time. She raises the bottle again and I feel myself moving forward without hesitation.

I encompass her small wrist with my hand and stop her arm as she swings it down. Her eyes fly to me and they darken with anger, giving her an almost insane look. My grip tightens and I slowly twist her wrist, causing Lila to gasp and drop the bottle. At that, I release her. Only seconds later she attempts to attack me. Gripping her arms to hold her back, I kick her legs out from underneath her and push her out of the trailer. She lands on the hard, winter ground with a yelp of pain, but I bear it no mind as I slam the trailer door shut in her ruddy face, ignoring her yells for me to open the door.

I move to the ginger laying almost unconscious on the trailer floor and sit him up against the couch. "Jerome. Hey, look at me."

His disorientated green eyes meet my bright blue ones and he grins, the blood running from his nose staining his teeth. "Hey, Cali. What're you doing here?"

"Apparently I'm saving your ass again. Can you stand?"

"I should be able to."

Jerome grips the edge of the couch and staggers to his feet, wobbling quite a bit from the blow to his head. I grip his arm as he straightens, giving him a look filled with worry as he almost falls to the ground. All I get is a smirk. At that I roll my eyes and drag him into the small bathroom, causing him to stumble and run into the doorframe. I sit him on the shut toilet and help him take his shirt off, throwing it to the side. I then turn to the small cabinet above the sink, grabbing out the antiseptic and bandages before turning back to him. The sight makes my gut churn.

Layers upon layers of scars litter his pale skin. There are jagged scars from broken glass, clean slices from blades of all kinds, and small, circular scars from cigarette burns. There are bruises atop the scars in a myriad of colours and shapes - the severity making chills sweep my body. The patches make unbridled anger wash through me and set my body alight. There's so much wrong with this picture, and I haven't a clue how to stop it. I don't know what I can do for him, but I need to do  _something_.

"Accalia," Jerome says softly, all playfulness and teasing drained from his voice. It's utterly vulnerable and soft - a complete other side of him that very few see. He's never been one to let down his guard around  _anyone_ , and, yet, he's letting it down around me. "It's alright.  _I'm_  alright. I promise."

"Jerome," I reply, my voice filled with barely restrained anger and sadness. "How can you, in any way, be alright with any of this? She's abusing you - and she has been for years!"

He says nothing, but his eyes darken with rage. That's the only warning I get before he snaps - his hand gripping my wrist tightly and digging his fingers in. My eyes snap up to his burning green ones and glare right into them, daring him to harm me in any way. I've known him for years, and this side of him - his true self - is one that I've seen all too much. I know Jerome better than anyone will ever know, and that means that I know he will not harm even a hair on my head.

Jerome is someone with ambition and vision, and he has no need to hide from someone who has similar beliefs and desires. This emotion in his eyes is his inner beauty and ferocity, and it's a masterpiece that is constantly clashing and fighting itself - a beauty at war. His vibrant green eyes are ones I would stare into for eternity and would fight to have by my side forever - they're a living painting of fire and ice and desire and ferocity that hold the attention of all who see them and demand their audience's captivation.

"That nagging, drunken whore is not going to be doing it for much longer," Jerome hisses, the threat in his voice blatantly clear. It sends a chill down my spine, and so does the smirk painted on his face. "She's going to get what's coming for her very soon."

I chuckle at his promise, sitting back on my heels and pulling my wrist free from his grip. "When exactly are you planning this, Mr Valeska?"

"Well, Miss  _Gordon_ , I can't tell you too much, can I?"

I cringe at the name and narrow my eyes at him. "You know full well that I wouldn't tell that bastard anything - and you know that I am not a Gordon. I am in no way related to him."

Jerome's eyes sparkle and his grin widens. "Oh, little terror, you are more like Jim Gordon then you let on. Believe me, you're just as ruthless and set in your ways that your foster father is. That makes me wonder what your birth father is like."

Thoughts fill my mind, along with a faint image of a dark haired man smiling down at me, a dark skinned woman by his side with a matching smile of happiness on her face. The image is all I have of my life before I was put in an orphanage with complete strangers that despised me from the moment they set eyes on me. I was a child with no sense of evil, but they taught me what evil was and what it could do to those who fell victim to its whims and desires.

A shrill ringing drags me from my thoughts and I jerk, digging my phone out of my pocket. "Of course. Brilliant timing."

Jerome looks at the screen and chuckles. "Answer it. He deserves to know what's going on."

I stare angrily into his eyes and answer the phone, holding up to my ear. "Hello, James. What can I do for you?"

"Accalia," Jim, my foster father, sighs through the speaker. He dislikes it when I sass at him. "I was just calling to see how late you're going to be. After all, you have school tomorrow, and I am pretty sure you have an English exam that still needs completing."

"Oh, shit. Sorry, James. I completely forgot about that English exam."

"That's alright. I understand what you're going through at the moment. Take your time. I'll write you a note or something to get you out of having to hand it in tomorrow if you'd like."

"You'd do that? Thank you so much, James. I owe you one."

"Cali, you don't have to do anything. You're my daughter, and I'd do anything for you."

"Oh, shut up, James. Don't go getting all emotional on me now."

"Alright. I'll hang up now," Jim assures me, his voice teasing. "What time are you coming home?"

I meet Jerome's eyes. "I'll be home in a couple of hours - if not sooner."

"Alright. I'll see you then - if I'm still awake. Bye, Accalia."

"Bye, James."

I lower the phone and hit the red circle on the screen, cancelling the call. The second I do, Jerome's fingers curl around my phone and relieve it from my grasp, setting it on the sink before returning his hand to mine and gripping it tightly. He drags me up from the floor and I stumble, ending up awkwardly sitting on Jerome's lap, my hands pressed against his torso to steady myself. Meeting his darkened green eyes, I raise my eyebrow in order to coax an answer out of him.

All he does is smirk, and, before I can sort out the situation in my mind, out of the blue, and with no provocation at all, he kisses me. It is not the first time he has done this, and I have a feeling that it will certainly not be the last. Every time he has done it in the past, there has always been a provocation or a meaning behind it, but, for this fiery kiss, I cannot comprehend a meaning behind it.

There's a burning heat of desire behind this one, and I can't help but respond to the motion as I feel his hands grip at my waist and pull me flush against his firm, scarred and bruised self. My own hands work their way up to his neck, and my fingers weave into his ginger hair, tugging lightly and causing Jerome to rip his mouth away from mine and stare at me dangerously.

"What was that for?" I ask, meeting his unnerving gaze head on without shying away. "You always have a reason for what you do. So, what was the reason behind that?"

Jerome shrugs, releasing my hips and allowing me to climb off him. "Do I need a reason, Cali?"

I straighten my shirt and glare warningly at him, pocketing my phone once again. "Yes, you most certainly need a reason for doing something like that. Especially to me, Jerome. Anyone else, I couldn't care less about a reason, but this is me. You can't just kiss me and not expect me to want to know why you've done it - especially since you've made it utterly clear that you have no romantic feelings for me."

He smiles up at me and leans back on the toilet, scanning my face for a tell of any kind. "I see. We're only best friends - nothing more and nothing less. So, what if, and this is a massive 'what if', we could be something more than that?"

"What exactly are you proposing?" I lean against the wall with my arms crossed over my chest. "You want to try the whole 'couple' thing or something, ginger? Sorry, but that's a no way from me. I'm not being anyone's play thing or test subject."

"I was thinking something else."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey superwolves.
> 
> Just wanted to let you know, that;
> 
> ✮ Cali is pronounced 'carly'
> 
> ✮ Accalia is pronounced 'Ah-car-li-ah'
> 
> \- Chey xo -


	6. 02 ✮ The First Step - I Mean, Murder

✮ **a c c a l i a** ✮

Almost an hour later, the building I live in with Jim comes into view. We live in the penthouse at the top of the building with his fiancee, Barbara Kean, and she's more a sister than a mother figure. The blonde woman is a miracle worker and a living beauty without a doubt, and she is someone I can look up to and go to with anything no matter how bad it is. Not to mention, the majority of the clothes that live within my wardrobe are outfits that no longer fit her, or ones that she no longer likes.

A chirping sounds and I pull my phone out, not hesitating to hit the answer button. "Barbara, what are you doing calling me at this hour?"

Barbara laughs, not even slightly berated by my sass. "I was just wondering when you are getting home. Or, by any chance, are you staying with your boy toy tonight?"

"If you're insinuating that Jerome and I are a thing, I'm going to burst your bubble on that one. There is no way in hell that we're ever going to be a thing in any way, shape, or form."

"Oh, alright. I'll believe that when I see it. Either way, when are you going to get home? Jim's at work and I've got no one here."

I chuckle. "You're in luck. I'm on my way up."

"Yay!"

"James said he was going to be there by the time I got here. What is he doing?"

"I don't know, Cali. Who knows what he has roped himself into this time? It may be tomorrow when we see him next."

I sigh, walking out of the elevator as the doors  _bing_ open. "Who knows? I'm back now. You can hang up, quit worrying, and go to sleep. I'll wake you if anything happens."

"Alright. Thank you, Cali."

Barbara hangs up and I push open the door, latching it behind me as I shove my phone deep into my pocket. It's a strange thing to be coming back to the penthouse at such an hour. The entire thing looks as though it is an utterly different place than where I live. The shadows give the penthouse an eerie feel that sends chills through my body, causing the hairs on my arms and legs to stand erect, and making me instinctively roll my shoulders in an attempt to rid myself of the chill.

There's no lights illuminating this apartment, and that leaves the silver light from the moon to bathe the furnished room in a serene light. The shadows are long and unnatural, and the shapes they have morphed into over the hours are grotesque forms without distinct shape or detail. The lack of unnatural light has allowed a stillness and an almost ice cold atmosphere to descend upon the house.

Weaving my way through the furnishings, I make my way to the bedroom I've been sleeping in for the past decade. It's no small room by any means. With the money Jim makes being in law enforcement, and the money Barbara inherited from her parents, and for the charity work she does, they have enough to last them a lifetime or five.

There's a large, king sized bed in the dead centre of the farthest wall, an entire wall covered in books to my left, a large black desk to my right with a deep purple swivel chair accompanying it, and a wardrobe that is almost half the length of the remainder of the wall. The books are mainly fictional and about far away lands with tyrant kings and seductive villains, but, to the side closest to the back wall, there are books on serial killers, murders and every type of mental afflictions and diseases known to mankind. They're the ones that have allowed me to know that my best friend is more than he lets on.

The giant window on the left wall meets the end of my wardrobe and allows a lot of the silvery moonlight to illuminate my room. In the light, I can make out the geometric patterns on my purple and black bed set, and see the vibrant red of my pillow cases. It's one of those sets that is double-sided. One side has a black and purple geometric pattern, and the other is, for some reason, a vivacious cherry red that sends chills down my spine. The combination of the three colours is unexpectedly complementary and mesmerising.

I don't even bother relieving myself of my clothes. Instead, I make my way over to the bed and fall onto it, embracing the comfort and warmth of the expensive bed. My eyes close not too much later, and I fall into a sleep of twisted dreams and murderers - a particular ginger haired male grinning at me as he clutches a bloodied knife in his hand. The body at his feet is all too familiar. After all, I see her every time I go to visit him. It is Lila, and she is covered in blood.

"Wake up, Cali," he taunts, his grin turning feral. "Wake up and become who you know you really are."

I find myself shaking my head. "I have no need of waking up, ginger. I'm already there."

"Then, why are you just standing there? Give me a hand."

My grip tightens on a handle and I look down, only to find a bloodied hatchet clutched in my bloodied hand. I look up at the ginger in front of me and a psychotic laugh escapes him, his eyes twinkling in delight. An answering grin spreads across my face and I feel laughter bubbling up inside me, a warm feeling spreading through my body as I feel myself moving towards my best friend and his murdered mother. I raise my hand holding the hatchet and swing it down with a force I didn't know I possessed.

Just as I am about to make contact with her butchered corpse, a piercing ringing sounds in my ears. Back in reality, my eyes fly open and I jolt up into a sitting position on my bed, my eyes flying around the room and my breaths coming out rapid and irregular. There's movement in the corner of my vision. A dark figure darts around the room and makes their way out the door. He's going further into the penthouse. Fear rises and clogs in my throat. My breathing becomes even more erratic and my vision begins to swim.

 _"Accalia!"_  Jerome's voice echoes in my mind and I cling to it like a lifeline.  _"Snap out of it! There's an intruder in your house! Get your head in the game!"_

I can't...

_"Cali, come on. Where's the fearless and ruthless girl I know?"_

She's gone...

 _"There's someone in your_ home _. Barbara is in trouble, little terror. It's not just your life at stake here."_

Barbara...

A strange calmness washes over me and I feel my heart rate beginning to steady out. My trembling stops and my vision becomes clear once again as I swing my legs off the bed and make my way to the door, my feet padding silently on the hardwood floor. On my way, I grab the switchblade Jerome gave me for my birthday and slip out of the door, my eyes scanning the open area for any humanoid shape. A small shuffling sound causes my cold gaze to swing in the direction of Barbara's room. Just in front of the door, I see a dark shape looming in front of it.

Rushing toward the shape, I shove them away from the door and stand protectively in front of it. The intruder clambers to their feet and the moonlight illuminates their face. It's nobody I recognise, but they are definitely male. His dark eyes burn into mine with ferocity, and that's the only warning I get before he launches himself at me, a silver instrument glimmering in his hand as the moonlight hits it. Damn. Of course he has a weapon on him. He is breaking into a house after all.

Gritting my teeth, I shift my stance and thank Jim for making me take self-defence classes of all kinds. I angle my body and raise my arm up to block his attack. I shove his arm away and land several well-placed punches on his torso, causing his left arm to fall limp by his side. Unfortunately, it's not the arm I wanted to fall limp. He snarls in anger at me and swings the knife. I am too slow to react, and the blade swipes across my face, carving a gash onto my face.

A stinging pain radiates from the gash below my eye, spanning an unknown distance across my face. I suck in a sharp breath at the stinging pain, but I don't let on that it hurts much more than that. The man grins in victory and goes to attack me again, but I'm ready for him. He stabs at me and I grasp the blade with my left hand, ignoring the stabbing pain, and, using the momentum to slam his wrist against the wall, force him to drop the knife. It clatters to the ground and I flick out my switchblade, the blade glinting in the light.

The man snickers and swipes the blade from my hand before I get a good grip on it, flipping it around and jabbing it me. I glare into his eyes and move out of the way of the blade. It is undeniably sharp, and I know that it hurts when it slices your skin open. Knife training was never fun. The intruder continuously attacks me, and he manages to land a few gashes on my arms and torso, but not enough to warrant any stitches or staples. As he goes in for another one, I step to the side and grab his wrist tightly, digging my fingers in as an attempt to find his pressure point. A strangled sound leaves him and his hand spasms as he drops the blade.

For good measure, I slam his wrist against the closest solid object, hopefully breaking it. From the lack of exclamation, I'm not sure that I applied enough force. Pushing that to the back of my mind, I dive for the switchblade. Almost as soon as I grasp it, the man flips me over and launches himself at me. Pain contorts his face and I stare up at him with wide eyes before looking down between us. Blood is beginning to coat my hands, and it's not just mine anymore. I yank the blade free from his body and he grunts, pushing himself off me and collapsing to the ground beside me.

He limply places his hands over the wound and, in futile desperation, attempts to staunch the blood flow. With trembling hands, I push myself up from the floor and move as far away from the dying man as I possibly can. All too soon, my back comes in contact with the bookcase on the other side of Barbara's door, and it's not far enough away from him. He's only a few steps away from me, and his eyes are staring into mine, imploring me to save him. All I can do is watch as he dies.

Using my non-wounded hand, I pull my phone from my pocket and call Jim. The phone rings for only a few seconds, but it feels much longer. Time feels as though it has slowed down, and it is no longer going normally through the hourglass. Time. Such a funny thing. After all, I did just give someone a fatal blow and their time is running out faster than it can be stopped.

"Accalia?" Jim asks, the worry already evident in his voice. I never call him during the night, or early in the morning. He knows something is wrong. "Accalia, talk to me. What's wrong?"

I open my mouth to reply, but it catches in my throat. I can't speak.

"Talk to me! Come on!"

"...J-James..."

"Thank god. Cali, what's going on?"

"Someone broke into the penthouse. I... James, I..."

"It's alright. Just tell me what's going on." I hear shuffling on Jim's side of the phone and then the sound of a car door slamming, the engine starting a few seconds later. "I'm on my way home."

I swallow loudly. "James, he's dead... I killed him... He tried to kill me..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey superwolves.
> 
> So, while I remember to do so, I'd like to inform you about a few things for this story - other than the most obvious things that is. Here they are:
> 
> ✮ Leslie "Lee" Thompkins is not going to be a romantic interest for Jim
> 
> ✮ Barbara does not go more insane until later on in this story
> 
> ✮ This may contain spoilers if you're not up-to-date
> 
> ✮ I am going to be putting Jeremiah into here
> 
> I believe that's about it. If there's anything else, I'll mention it in another author's note later on in the story. Also, if something pops up that isn't listed here - and doesn't make sense to you - please do let me know. 
> 
> \- Chey xo -


	7. 03 ✮ Time for an Interrogation

✮ **a c c a l i a** ✮

Hours after the phone call with Jim, I am seated in a bland, grey room with a one-way mirror to my right, a small door and a table in front of me, and a handful of filing cabinets to my left. The bar where the handcuffs are meant to be linked to in order to prevent me leaving is bare, and so are my wrists. Everyone in this station knows me, and they know that I won't leave when things get ugly - or when the odds are against me like they are now. They all know that I wouldn't kill a man in cold blood, well, they believe that fact anyway. Truthfully, I have no clue what I am capable of after tonight.

Harvey Bullock, Sarah Essen, Jim and Barbara are on the other side of the mirror, talking about who knows what. They're probably deciding my fate right now. Hopefully, they have taken into account that it was self-defence, and that I had no choice to do what I did. Staring down at my blood stained hands, I can feel myself almost reliving the incident repeatedly. I clench my hands tightly, my nails digging themselves into the flesh of my palms. Pain instantly erupts in my right hand due to the gash, but I find that it helps to calm me and stop me from trembling as badly as I am.

Then, I hear a voice calling out and my head snaps in the direction of the door. I can't believe he's here.

"Where is she?" the ginger exclaims. "Where's Accalia? I want to see her!"

"Who are you?" an officer asks, apprehension clear in their voice. Alvarez. "What are you to Accalia?"

"I'm her best friend. Please. Let me see her."

"Alright." Footsteps come up the stairs and stop in front of the door. "You can have as long as it takes for Detective Gordon to prepare himself to interrogate his daughter."

"Thank you so much, officer."

The door opens and the first thing I see is the red hair of my best friend, the second being his worried, forest green eyes. I stand from my seat and, only seconds later, I am engulfed in his arms and begin to tremble once again, but this time without pause. I hear Alvarez chuckle lightly before he shuts the door, and that's when Jerome pulls back and looks at me with dark eyes. Mine widen at the look because I know what's coming, but it can't happen here. He can't show his psychotic side in front of the police.

"Cali, are you hurt?" Jerome demands, his voice deep and rage filled. "I swear to god, if you're hurt, I'm going to lose it."

I shake my head, gripping his hands as they begin to run over my body in search of a wound. "Hey. I'm alright, ginger. I promise."

"Don't you lie to me. Don't you dare lie to me." His gaze directs its anger at me. "You better not be lying to me, missy."

I lower my voice. "You can't lose it here, Jerome. I'll tell you everything later. Alright? Can you wait until then?"

"Who's here to see me lose it? I'm not worried."

"Three detectives are on the other side of that glass, and so is Barbara. While she may not mind, Harvey, Essen and James might mind just a little - and James will go protective father on me."

"Good point." Jerome lets out a sigh and relaxes, his eyes lightening and worry returning to his gaze. He pulls me into another hug and squeezes me tightly as I reciprocate it. "I was so worried. I came as soon as I could. I would have been here sooner but my mother had some things for me to do."

My grip tightens on his jacket and I tense. "She didn't want anything strenuous done, did she?"

"Nothing too bad."

His warmth seeps into my chilled skin and I shiver, pressing myself more against him in an attempt to become warmer. A chuckle causes his chest to vibrate and he pulls away for a moment, causing me to shiver at the sudden chill that sweeps my body. Something warm lands on my shoulders and I look up to find Jerome without a jacket. He helps me slide my arms into the sleeves, and then I nestle into the warmth, smiling up at the kind, caring and psychotic ginger. Jerome smiles and pulls me in for another hug, but this one is cut short.

Someone knocks on the door, and it opens to reveal a stone-faced Jim Gordon. I know this face; he's in detective mode, and it sends chills down my spine. Jerome's eyes narrow slightly at the sight of my foster father, but he turns to me with a smile and hugs me goodbye. I tell him we'll meet up later and he agrees, walking out of the interrogation room and leaving me alone with a detective whose eyes show no emotion but hard determination to get the truth.

He closes the door and motions for me to take a seat. So, he's not quite prepared to talk yet, but he's acting the part. I sit back down on the now ice-cold chair and Jim sits in front of me, placing a manilla folder and a voice recorder on the table. I know that the folder contains photos from the murder; the dead man, the knife, my switchblade, the blood that seemed to have no end. The red light is glowing brilliantly and the vivacious makes my stomach twist.

"State your name and age," Jim instructs, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

I shift in my seat and nod. "Accalia Gordon. 17."

"Miss Gordon, we received a phone call from you at 2:18 this morning stating that an intruder had broken into your apartment and that you had killed him. Is this correct?"

"Yes, detective. That is correct."

"Could you please tell me more about what happened this morning? That is, if it is not too difficult for you to talk about. I do understand if it's too much at this time."

I shake my head and clear my throat. "No it's fine, Detective Gordon."

"Very well. Please go right ahead."

"I woke up to a loud ringing in my ears, but I'm sure that has nothing to do with the intruder. Anyway, as you do when you wake abruptly from a dream, I scanned the room and my eyes landed on a dark figure making his way out of my room. My guess is that he came into the wrong room. I don't know what came over me, but I got out of bed and followed him out into the main room - after grabbing my switchblade for protection of course. I don't go anywhere without it. Anyway, I had lost sight of him, but I quickly caught sight of him picking the lock to my adoptive mother's bedroom."

I watch as Jim's eyes harden at this new information. His fiancee could have been hurt if I hadn't of stepped in.

"I acted without caring for my own safety by charging at him and shoving him to the ground. When he stood, and the moonlight hit his face, I didn't recognise him, but his eyes darkened in rage as if he knew me. He launched himself at me, and that's when I saw the knife. I knew I'd made the right decision to get my switchblade. I fought him the best I could, and I managed to hit the right spot to cause his arm to go limp, but it wasn't the right arm. He swiped at me and landed a blow."

I trace the gash on my face and wince lightly at the sting of pain. Jim just about breaks his knuckles he is clenching them so tight.

"He went to get me again, but I caught the blade. Stupid decision really." I stare at my sliced open palm. "It cut deep, but it was better than getting stabbed. I slammed his wrist against the wall or doorframe and he dropped the knife. That short amount of time allowed me to get out my switchblade, but I was too slow getting a hold on it because of my bloody hand. He took it from me and landed a couple of gashes on me, but not enough to worry me."

Jim winces.

"He went to get me again but I grabbed his wrist and found his pressure point, forcing him to drop my switchblade. I slammed his wrist again in a futile hope to break it, but I didn't apply enough force. I dove for my switchblade right then and there. I needed a weapon, and that was the closest one. I got it, and then he pulled me back, flipping me over." My eyes sting and I bury my nails into my palms once again. "He.... He launched himself at me, not noticing I was holding my switchblade, and....impaled himself on it. I....I pulled the blade out of him and he rolled himself off me. That was the one decent thing he did - not crush me with his dead weight. How sad."

Jim's eyes are alight with fury and anger. He hates himself for not being there when he said he would be.

"I got as far away from him as I could, but it wasn't that far. He stared straight into my eyes as he died. I wonder what he saw there. Did he see a cold-blooded murder? A psychopath who killed him for fun? I wouldn't be surprised at either." I grit my teeth to hold back the words threatening to come out. "I called you, Detective Gordon, without a second thought. I'm not sure if anyone else would have come if I'd of called them. Maybe Detective Bullock, but that's it."

"Thank you for your time, Miss Gordon," Jim says in a tight voice. "You may go. Detective Bullock will show you out."

I smile slightly and stand as he turns off the voice recorder. "It's alright, James."

"How are you really doing, Cali?"

"I'm fine. Probably still in shock. It will hit me soon enough."

The door opens to reveal Harvey. He's like the uncle I never had, and he's the one I tell almost everything to - with Barbara being tied with him in second place of course. I don't even have to name who number one is anymore. Everyone knows who I trust the most in this world, and it's not an adult. Harvey grins at me and I walk over to him, pausing when Jim speaks.

"That friend who came here earlier," Jim begins. "Can he be trusted to look after you for a few days while we get Barbara's place cleaned up?"

My eyes widen in shock at the question. "Ginger can be trusted with more than you think, James. He's my best friend, and nothing's ever going to change that."

"'Ginger'? Is that a code name or something?" Harvey jokes, nudging me lightly as Jim cracks a smile at his partner's antics. "A nickname perhaps?"

"Of course it is. It's just like 'Cat' is Selina's nickname."

Walking out of the interrogation room, I clutch Jerome's jacket around my smaller frame and inhale his strange scent. Beside me, Harvey chuckles at my actions and motions to the familiar suitcase sitting beside Jim's desk. Someone packed me some clothes from the penthouse, and I'm pretty sure that it was neither Jim or Harvey. I look up to see Barbara speaking to a dark haired woman, a flirtatious smile on the blonde's face. I merely shake my head at her.

Leaving Harvey at the police station, I grab the suitcase and head outside, hailing a taxi to take me to the circus. I get a strange look, but it disappears when I tell the driver that I am staying with a friend who lives with the circus. Thirty minutes and an annoying amount of money later, I reach Jerome's trailer. Knocking on the door, it opens almost instantly to reveal my favourite ginger.

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."


	8. 04 ✮ Strange Ginger

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

The smell of alcohol and cigarettes are the first things to hit me as I step into the trailer. It's a perfume that lingers on all who enter here, and it's one that is hard to remove. It's bitter and eye watering if you're not used to it, and it catches in your throat when you try to breathe - an attempt to suffocate no matter who the unwilling victim is. Aside from the stench, the trailer is unnaturally clean. There are no shards of broken glass, cigarette butts, or even blood stains anywhere on the walls or floor; the washing has been done and put away; the couches are even clean.

Jerome notices my gaze sweeping the trailer. "It looks different, doesn't it?"

"Is this what you were talking about earlier?" I ask with a stiff voice. "She made you clean the entire trailer? This was the whole 'nothing too bad' comment?"

"Half of it." He pulls off his shirt and my eyes instantly zone in on the bruises covering his body. "This is the other half."

"Ginger." I lightly run my blood stained fingers over the purple bruises. They're not as bad as usual, but they're still bad. "Damn it."

"I'm fine, Cali. I promise."

"You don't look fine. You look half dead!"

His hand grips the one of mine that's tentatively tracing the bruise on his torso. I fight the instinct to wince when his fingers graze over the gash on my palm, but he notices the pain flare in my eyes. Jerome turns my hand over and glares down at the wound, his eyes darkening in rage. Tightening his hold slightly, he drags me into his room, slamming the door shut behind us and then turning to me with possessiveness and pure, unadulterated rage glowing in his green eyes.

His hands deftly remove his jacket from my body, quickly followed by my shirt. His gaze runs over my body, finding the wounds that the intruder left on my body this morning. Aside from the gashes, he notices the bruises from where the intruder had launched himself onto me. When noticing them, Jerome's eyes take on a whole new level of rage that I wasn't sure existed. His hands ball into fists and his chest heaves as he fights to steady his breathing and stop from breaking something.

"I'm fine, Ginger," I assure, gently touching his arm. "I promise."

His hands grasp my wrists and pins me to the wall, his dark eyes boring into mine. "He touched something that wasn't his to touch. He hurt someone who didn't deserve it. He hurt someone I care about. That can never be forgiven."

"Don't go getting all possessive of me. I am not yours either. Keep that little fact in mind, psycho."

"Oh. Did I hit a nerve? Don't like being tied down, do you?"

"I am no one's possession. I am not a  _thing_  for someone to keep locked away."

"Is that so, Accalia?"

I glare into his green eyes, not backing down. "Back the hell off, Jerome."

He moves his mouth to my ear, his warm breath hitting my cool skin. "Is that really what you want, little terror? Are you sure you don't want someone to dominate you?"

I shudder at the tone in his voice and dig my nail into my palms, fighting the urge to give in to what he is insinuating. A chill sweeps my body as his lips brush against the sensitive skin below my ear, and my eyes flutter closed at the sensation, my body acting of its own accord. It presses itself against Jerome and I hear him chuckle, his grip tightening on my wrists. I grit my teeth and force my body away from his - I won't give him the pleasure of having me submit to him. I am  _not_ his.

Building up my strength, I shove my body against his with enough force that he releases my wrists and stumbles back a few steps. creating a nice distance between us. His green eyes glitter with amusement as they stare into my blue-green ones. He knew that I would force him off, and that I would have a hard time bringing myself to do so. Despite everything we've been through as friends, there has always been this underlying sexual tension between us.

With that tension has come quite a few moments like these, and they're starting to become more provocative and suggestive than usual. Jerome's sexually active. That's no secret. He knows that I won't give into him, so he finds others to release his pent up sexual desires on. That's fine with me. After all, I have no intent to being with Jerome in any way more than what we are now. Although that may be true, I can see what Jerome and my relationship would be like if we got together.

Every day would be a new adventure. It would be living life on the edge. No one would be able to tell us no, or stop us from being together and who we are. On the other hand, we'd get in many an argument and fight because of our differing points of view and opinions on how we should do things. If the arguments and what occur after are anything to go by, I am almost certain that we'd end up fucking after every single one. It would be rough and merciless; using each other to let out our frustrations and anger at each other.

"What's going on in that twisted mind of yours, little terror?"

I stare into Jerome's swirling green eyes. "Nothing that would be amusing to you."

Jerome smirks, walking straight over to me and halting only an inch in front of me. "That I really doubt. Your mind has the most amusing things occurring in it. Do tell. Remember, we have no secrets here."

"You had to pull that on me."

He grins and lets out a small, crazy laugh.

"Fine," I sigh. "I was thinking about us."

"Ooh. Interesting. Continue."

"I was thinking, hypothetically, if we ever got together what we would be like; what life would be like."

Jerome sits down on his bed and hums in thought. "Now that is interesting. What do you think we would be like, Cali?"

I sit on his desk chair and shrug lightly. "I think that every day would be a new adventure; it would be living life on the edge. No one would be able to tell us no, or stop us from being together and who we are. On the other hand, we'd get in so many arguments and fights because of our different views and opinions. If the arguments and what occur after right now are anything to go by, I am almost certain that we'd end up fucking after every single one. It would be rough and merciless; using each other to let out our frustrations and anger at each other. That's what it would be like. We'd be a house on fire."

Jerome stays silent, his brow furrowed and his forest green eyes contemplative. He is taking everything I said to heart, and is not even trying to hide his growing fascination with the idea of us being together. Leaving him to his thoughts, I get up off the desk chair and leave his room. I close the door behind me and shiver when the cold air hits my skin. I forgot that I had no shirt on. Shivering, I walk over to my suitcase and get out some clean clothes. I seriously need a shower.

I close the bathroom door and sigh, staring into the mirror. There's dried blood on my face. I let out a breath and shake my head, turning away from the mirror and getting undressed. I drop the clothes onto the floor and step into the tiny shower. It still surprises me that the trailers have showers in them. The size of them still baffles me - especially this one. Then again, both Lila and Jerome have to live here. So it makes sense that they'd get one of the bigger and better trailers to accommodate them both.

Turning the water on, I wait for it to heat up. It takes almost a minute, but it's worth it. The temperature is perfect once I fiddle with the taps for a little, and the water pressure is almost as good as the penthouse's. Scrubbing at the dried blood on my hands, it begins to change the clear water into some scene from a horror movie where the killer washes the blood from their hands. I squeeze my eyes shut and scrub harder, ignoring the stinging pain of my palm as I rip off the half formed scab. A sob escapes me as it all hits me at once, and my knees give out.

II slide down the wall of the shower and land on the floor with a  _thump_. "Fuck it all."

The bathroom door opens and Jerome pokes his head in. "Are you alright, Cali?"

"I-I'm fine."

"No you're not." He steps in and closes the door behind him, sitting on the closed toilet. "Tell me what's going on."

"It's just all hitting me now. I guess the shock's worn off."

He stays silent, letting me continue without interruption.

"I don't get it, ginger. I've killed people before, and it's never made me flinch. They deserved it - they almost beat me to death. He deserved it too, but I feel guilty about killing him. This makes no sense. Those children from the adoption centre... The intruder... What's the difference between them? What the fuck is the difference? None of this makes any sense!"

"I can't say there is much difference between these killings. After all, every single person you've killed has hurt you in some way, shape, or form within a few minutes of their demise." Jerome sighs, shuffling around slightly. "I don't know what to say, Cali."

I stare at the blood seeping from my palm. "You can let me know if I can stay here for a few days. Barbara's place is still a crime scene, and it's covered in blood. None of us can go back there until it's all done."

"Jesus, Cali. You know you don't have to ask if you stay here. You can stay whenever you want, for as long as you want. No one is going to stop you from being here. Plus, it'll keep my mother at bay for however long you're here."

"Neither her nor her fuck buddies will be laying a hand on you while I'm around. I'll fucking kill them if they do."

"I know you will, but not my mother. Her time is coming soon."

"How soon? At this rate, you'll be dead before you get around to killing her."

He laughs. "She can try kill me. I'll bet that she can't deliver that final blow though."

I turn off the water and shake my head, reaching out for my towel. "I don't doubt that."

A fluffy object is placed in my grip and I bring it back into the small shower, wrapping it around my scarred body. Stepping out, I almost slip on the slightly wet floor, but Jerome grips my arm tightly to prevent me from falling. At that, I give him a look telling him to leave so I can get changed, and all he does is smirk. He stands and moves closer to me, one of his hands resting on my waist above the towel. I stare up at him with a flat look, not amused at his actions.

"Why are you asking me to leave?" Jerome hums, his fingers dancing on my wet arm and going down towards the top of the towel. "You can't tell me you haven't fantasized, or even had a passing thought, about this."

I grip the towel tighter, preventing it from being pulled away. "Jerome, get out. There is no way in hell you're getting what you want from me. Not right now anyway. Maybe one day, but not this day."

"I'll hold you to that, Accalia."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey superwolves.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to one of the best authors I've read on Wattpad, MandyQuinn96. She is writing an awesome series called 'The Deadly Series', and, to make it even better, it's a Jerome Valeska one - and I absolutely adore the characters.
> 
> So, this is for you, love! Keep up the good work, Mandy, and keep us hanging onto the edges of our seats with your gripping stories. Also, I have something to ask you, so, would you please be able to PM me when you have the time?
> 
> \- Chey xo -


	9. 05 ✮ Bitter Pill to Swallow

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

For once, the sun streaming through a window is not what awakens me in the morning. I wake up encapsulated by warmth, an arm wrapped around me and holding me close to a body radiating a massive amount of heat. A sigh of contentment leaves me and I move closer to the warmth as a brush of cold air hits my back and causes me to shiver. The person mumbles something and tightens their grip on me, making me open my eyes. It's a struggle because I'm exhausted and my body doesn't want to comply to my wishes.

The first thing I see is white. I let out a small groan as I force my head out of its comfortable position, moving it back and trying to get my bearings. I make out blurry shapes, along with a vibrant ginger colour in my vision. I'm not sure why there would be a ginger colour in my bedroom. I am certain that my walls are basically stark white, and that there is either a giant window or a bookcase in my line of vision. Also, I never invite anyone over because I don't have friends that are willing to spend the night with a detective in the same house as them for who knows what reason.

Wait. Ginger... Jerome!

My eyes widen astronomically as the events from yesterday flood into my mind - the murder; the interrogation; my confession to Jerome; my almost submission to Jerome; the incident after the shower. I flush and force myself out of his grasp, causing him to groan in his sleep and roll onto his back. Staring wide-eyed down at my best friend, relief shoots through me when I realise that I am completely clothed, and so is Jerome. A let out a breath of relief I didn't know that I had been holding, and then get up off his bed.

Well, I try. A hand latches itself onto my right wrist and I freeze at the contact, looking over my shoulder to see Jerome's bright, forest green eyes staring at me with the sheen of sleep still dusted over them. He sits up and lets out a groan followed by a yawn, still not letting his eyes leave mine. I give him a small smile and he reciprocates it, but there's a hint of something hidden behind that smile.

"What's wrong, ginger?" I ask, already beginning to worry about my best friend. "Did you have another dream?"

Jerome shakes his head, his smile vanishing. "No. I just..."

"You thought I was leaving, didn't you?"

"...yeah."

"Jerome, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to leave you. I swear on my life I'd never leave you."

"Thanks, Cali."

Nodding, I stand and walk out of his room, his hand falling from my wrist. As soon as I exit the room, something flies towards me and smashes against the wall, shattering and sending glass everywhere. I hiss in pain and glare at the furious woman in front of me, both of our anger's already beginning to boil just at the sight of the other. I hear the knob turning on the door behind me and I grip it tightly, preventing Jerome from exiting the room. He starts yelling for me to open the door, and it is soon accompanied by him banging on the door. I grab the chair closest to me and jam it under the door knob as I turn back to Lila.

"What the fuck was that for, Lila?" I hiss in anger, stepping towards her. "What did I do to deserve that, you drunken whore?"

Lila flushes in anger at my words. "Like you're one to talk,  _Accalia_. You've been whoring around with my son ever since you were a child! He's older than you, and you keep throwing yourself at him! Like he'll touch the tainted goods you have to offer!"

"You're the one with tainted goods. I am as pure as they come in that department!"

"Liar! You think saying those lies are going to make you good enough for my son? You're more of a fool than I thought, sweetheart." She steps closer to me, her beady eyes staring down at me from her slight height above me. "All you're ever going to be to him is a warm mouth if anything."

"Now you've done it, bitch."

I grab her collar and slam her against the wall, causing her to let out a yell of surprise. Using the momentum, I throw her over to the wall on the opposite side of the trailer, making her whack her head on the small window frame. Her furious eyes turn to me and I see blood beginning to trickle down from her hairline, causing me to smirk in satisfaction. She charges at me and grabs me around the middle, shoving me up against the wall and sending pain shooting down my spine. I let out a yelp as my head smashes against the wall, disorientating me for a few seconds.

She releases me and slaps me across the face.

Really, bitch? A slap?

I roll my eyes and punch her in the face, sending her falling to the floor of the trailer. I clamber on top of her and lay into her, my knuckles grazing across her teeth and breaking anything they can. Her hands find their way to my chest and she forces me off her, sending me flying about a metre before my back crashing into the cupboards underneath the sink. I feel my shoulder pop out of place and a stifled scream escapes my lips as I bite down on my hand.

"You're a weak little bitch," Lila hisses, staggering to her feet and placing a hand on her head where she's bleeding from the window. "There's another reason you will never be good enough for him."

I glare up at her with pure rage in my blue-green eyes. "Like you have any right to say what's good for him and what's not. You beat him for no goddamn reason, Lila! What did he ever do to deserve that?!"

"He drove my son away! That bastard in that room is not the son he once was, and that  _thing_  he has become is the reason my son is gone!"

"Your son is in that room, you blind bitch! Open those filthy eyes of yours!"

Gripping the handle of my weapon, I shove myself off the floor and slam her against the wall, holding the butcher knife to her throat. Lila's brown eyes widen in fear and I feel her begin to tremble against me, her eyes staring into mine and begging me to put the knife down. She must realise that I have no intention of doing so because her eyes begin to brim with tears and fill with more fear. The bitch doesn't want to die, but I have no time for her wishes.

I add pressure to her throat and grin at the sight of her blood. "I've killed people before, Lila, and I'm not against adding another name to that growing list. Especially someone who deserves to fucking die for all the harm that they have caused their own  _son_!"

A thunderous sound fills my ears, but I don't look away from the monster in front of me. Her eyes flicker behind me and begin to glitter with hope. Just by that look, I know that she is hoping Jerome will save her from this death she deserves. Well, she's right. Jerome will stop me right now, but he will kill her in his own time. Just as I predicted, his hand lays on top of mine that's holding the knife and pushes it down, forcing me to lower the blade. Although my instinct is telling me to fight against his wishes, I force myself to lower the knife. It clatters to the ground as I release it, and Lila flinches.

"Cali, stop," Jerome murmurs, gently moving me away from his mother.

I hiss in pain and move out of his hold, holding my left shoulder. "I'm fine. I've got it under control. For now. Get her the hell out of here before I decide to kill her anyway."

"Cali."

"Don't test me, psycho. I mean it. Get rid of her."

Turning away from Jerome, I make my way into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I lean against it and slide to the floor, my head resting against it as I continue to hold my shoulder, pain flaring throughout my body. Outside, I hear a low murmur of voices as Jerome and his mother talk. Eventually he yells something and a door slams, Lila screaming something in return through the locked door. He groans in frustration and knocks on the bathroom door, waiting for me to answer.

"Do you need some help, Cali?"

I shuffle away from the door and he opens it. His eyes zone in on me sitting over near the shower and they turn sad as he takes in my appearance. I can only imagine how messed up I look after that fight with his mother. I must have glass all through my hair and blood splattered all over me. No matter how terrible I must look, Jerome doesn't say anything as he grabs the First Aid Kit and sits down in front of me with a small sigh. I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from yelping as I move my arm.

"Let's get your arm back into place first," he says, gently placing his hands on my left arm.

I laugh. "It's not going to be fun. How are you with bones? I can fix it myself. I've done it many times before."

"I'm fine. How do I do this?"

"It's a ball-and-socket joint. Pop the ball back into the socket. It hurts like a bitch, so don't mind me if I scream again."

Jerome nods and clenches his teeth, mentally preparing himself. He hates seeing me hurt almost as much as he hates having to hurt me. I place my hand on his leg and smile reassuringly, letting him know that I'll be fine. He lets out a deep breath and then grips my upper arm tighter, pushing it up and then in with no hesitation. I bite through the inside of my cheek and blood fills my mouth as I let out a pained whimper. My nails dig into Jerome's leg and he growls in pain, his eyes meeting mine as I release him.

"Sorry." I heave out my breaths. "Didn't mean to do that."

All he does is stare at me for another second before turning to the First Aid Kit, grabbing out a pair of tweezers and a couple pieces of gauze. He begins by wiggling the pieces of glass out of my skin on my shoulders, short spikes of pain barely registering from the throbbing of my shoulder. Grabbing two painkillers from the Kit, I swallow them dry with slight trouble and rest my head against the wall, waiting for them to take effect. Jerome makes his way from my shoulder down my arm and then back to my chest, hesitating a second before pulling out the smaller shards of glass that buried themselves into the skin there.

Pain encompasses my arm as he runs a piece of gauze with peroxide on it over the small gashes, but it quickly fades as the bacteria die within seconds. I sigh and drop my head forward onto Jerome's shoulder, wanting to be close to him right now. Pushing me off him, he grabs out the sling from the Kit. I slip it around my neck and rest my arm on the material hanging in front of my chest. Still not saying a word, he packs away all the tools from the Kit and puts it away. As soon as he does that, one of his arms go under my knees and the other around my upper back. He lifts me off the floor and carries me back to his room, sitting me on the bed before walking back out of his room and shutting the door.


	10. 06 ✮ Kill with a Kiss

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

Jerome doesn't come back for a few hours.

I stay sitting on his bed for an hour before I become antsy and feel the need to do  _something_. I straighten up Jerome's room; folding up the clothes that he has just thrown onto the floor, picking up the rubbish from snacks he has had during the night, re-organising his draws and labelling them, remaking his bed, and even vacuuming his room. That only takes about an hour, and I  _need_  to do something before I go stir-crazy. I decide to clean the entire trailer to pass the time.

Without a care in the world, I throw open Jerome's door and walk into the main area of the trailer, my eyes scanning over the mess  that Lyla and I created not too long ago. Added to that are empty alcohol bottles and cigarette butts that she left laying around without caring for anyone's safety. Rolling my eyes, I look over the mess and damage, wondering where I should begin in cleaning up this mess. I do the obvious answer - I start with cleaning the bottles off the floor.

Glass bottles clash against each other as I throw them into a plastic bag, and it sounds like music to my ears. Next go the cigarette butts and the shattered glass from the bottle Lila threw at me. Dragging the vacuum out of Jerome's room, I start it up and do the floor and couch in the main area, sucking up the smaller pieces of glass and ash that I couldn't risk picking up with my hands. Once that's done, I head over to the small kitchen and scrub down the benches with soap - the only cleaning product I could find in the entire trailer. At least it's a decent smelling soap, and that I can cover it with the air freshener that Barbara shoved into my suitcase.

I take all the cutlery and dishes and cups out of the cupboards and scrub clean the cupboards as well. Next clean are all the things from the cupboards, and they sit on the drying rack as I wait for the cupboards to dry out completely. While I wait, I begin to clean the bathroom. During that process, I, surprisingly, find a small out-of-date bottle of bleach. Shrugging, I upend it into a bucket and mix it with a little water to make it go further. Slipping on a glove, I begin to scrub the walls of the shower, then the sink and mirror. Leaving the toilet to last, I grab an old rag and shove it into the bucket. I scrub the floor of the bathroom, starting from the farthest wall and heading back towards the door. Once that's done, I upend the bucket of bleach and water into the toilet before closing the lid and flushing it.

Heading back into the main area, with the bucket in hand, I sigh in relief. It's all clean and there's no sign of anything having happened here. I sit the bucket beside the vacuum and head back to the small kitchen, checking to see if everything is dry. To my relief, everything is dry. I begin to put it back into the cupboards, organising it and making sure that I put labels on the doors of the cupboards. Stepping back, I do the stacks of plates and bowls and stacks of glasses a once over before closing the doors and turning to the vacuum. I empty the catch on the vacuum into the plastic bag with the bottles and cigarette butts before putting it back into the corner of the room.

I tie the top of the bag and place it in the bucket. Picking up the bucket, I make my way outside, slightly struggling to get the door open. I manage it after a few seconds and make my way down the stairs, heading over to the bin. The next struggle is opening the bin, but I manage that after a few seconds as well. I upend the bucket and the plastic bag drops into the bin, the glass shattering as it hits the bottom, followed by the sound of the lip slamming a second later. Walking back over to the trailer, I sit the bucket upside down on the ground and let any water and bleach in it drain out, and let the bucket dry.

"Accalia," Jim calls, making me freeze as I am about to walk back into the trailer.

"Shit," I curse under my breath, turning around to face Jim with a smile on my face. "Hey, James. What are you doing here?"

"I came to make sure this friend of yours is looking after you."

"He is. He's just out right now doing some personal things. Normal teenage boy who lives in a circus things."

Jim's eyes flicker to the sling. "What happened? You had nothing wrong with that arm yesterday."

I grit my teeth. "I got in a bit of a fight with a homeless kid. They were adamant about getting my money. I'm alright though. Promise. How's Barbara doing? She must be pretty shaken up."

"Barbara's doing fine. She's more worried about you than anything else."

"Of course she is. Let her know that I'm doing alright, will you? I'll see you later, James. I have to get the school work emailed to me so I can get it done."

"You don't. I've contacted your school and they understand what's going on. You don't have to do any of the work they've been doing unless you want to. Your teacher is going to email you everything they do in class, but she'll understand if you don't do it."

"Thanks, James." I open the door to the trailer and step inside. "See you later."

"Bye, Accalia."

Jim gives me a wave before walking away, my smile fading as soon as his back is turned. I hate lying to Jim, but I can't bring myself to tell him the truth about what is going on in my life. He'd have both myself and Jerome thrown into Arkham, or even Blackgate. That fact prevents me from telling even Barbara about what I have done, and what Jerome is planning to do. I couldn't live with myself if Jerome got locked up because of my stupidity, or because I cared too much about keeping my innocent and pure charade.

Shaking my head, I walk into the trailer and shut the door behind me, not bothering to lock it because I have a feeling that Jerome will be returning soon. As soon as I am inside, I make my way to his room and lay down on his bed, trying to find some solace in the comfort of it. Finding none, I stand and go over to his small wardrobe, grabbing out the jacket he let me use yesterday. Wrapping myself in it, I crawl back onto Jerome's bed and close my eyes, a wave of exhaustion suddenly washing over me.

"Come home safe, ginger," I murmur, a yawn escaping me as I nestle into one of the pillows on his bed. They're soft and welcoming, and cause me to want to lay here forever. "Please."

**✮✮✮**

I wake to a pair of arms wrapped around me, cradling me gently as if I am going to break if they hold me too tightly. Just by breathing in, I know who it is. Feigning sleep, I shuffle closer to Jerome and sigh in contentment without hesitation. His chest vibrates as he chuckles and one of his arms removes itself from my body, his hand soon brushing hair away from my face. I never knew he could be so gentle and kind and caring. I mean, I knew he could be, but not to this level. There's something new you learn every day, and this is it for me - this next level of Jerome.

"So innocent and vulnerable. What a lovely contradiction and lie. Cali, you're anything but vulnerable and innocent. You're a living fire; the embodiment of ferocity and determination. Such a beautiful being, and I wouldn't trade you for anything."

I groan. "You're being emotional. What's the matter? This isn't like you, ginger."

"So, you are awake."

"I am now. Where'd you end up going?"

"I had to go clear my head and calm down. I was about to snap and hurt you, or kill my mother. It's much too soon to kill my mother."

"You could have hurt me. I don't care. Nothing really hurts anymore."

"I'd never voluntarily hurt you, Cali. I swear."

"Why? I'm just tainted goods. So, I'm basically nothing but useless to you."

"Don't let my mother's lies get to you."

"She's right though. I am tainted." I rip myself away from my best friend and wrap my arms around myself as I sit up. "I've killed people, Jerome. I did it willingly and without hesitation. I'm a murderer."

"So what?" He sits up beside me and looks at me, but I avoid his gaze. "You killed people who either harmed you or meant you harm."

"That doesn't make it right. It makes me  murder - tainted and crazy."

"Fuck it. I am done with hiding this shit."

I look over at him just in time for him to grab my face and press his lips to mine, a searing heat behind them that warms me to the bone. His hands feel like they're everywhere; running up my thighs, trailing over my lower back, gripping my hips with purpose. The one time they dip below than my lower back, Jerome pulls me on top of him and all but holds me there as his lips move from my mouth to my throat, leaving burning kisses down to my collarbone.

My hands grip at his shirt as my head instinctively rolls back, baring my throat and letting him ravage my skin. He bites down once and a small cry escapes me, causing his hands to grip my hips tighter. It felt as though he was forcing himself to hold back. I find my fingers working their way under Jerome's shirt, and then my hands pressing against his stomach, my nails scratching lightly as he marks along my collarbone and up my throat, pushing the collar of my shirt out of the way.

A tearing sound interrupts our harsh panting and small groans of pleasure. My eyes fly open and Jerome freezes with his lips on my shoulder. He slowly pulls back and stares at my shirt, his eyes shocked. Straightening my head, I follow his gaze and bite my lip to hold back the giggle threatening to break free. He ripped my shirt, and he looks so scared about it. Taking one look at his worried face, I can't help but burst into laughter, my entire body shaking and my eyes crinkling as I part my lips and let it free.

"Cali," Jerome says, the shock evident in his voice.

"Oh my gods," I laugh, seeing the look in his eyes. "You look so worried about ripping a shirt!"

"I just..."

"It's alright, ginger. It's just a shirt. Nothing special at all."

"In that case..."

"Jerome..."

His hands grip my shirt and rips it further, chills sweeping my body as the material falls down to my waist. My arms instantly move up and cover my bra covered breasts, and I glare viciously at him. His green eyes stare at my arms for a second before looking up into my angry blue-green eyes, and a cheeky smile spreads across his face. He knew how I would react to him doing this, and, yet, he did it anyway. I roll my eyes at him and drop my arms, placing my hands on my hips and shaking my head.

"Why the hell did you do that?" I demand.

Jerome smirks. "Oh, you know. I just wanted to."

"We're still not a thing, ginger. You don't have that right."

"Do you want to be a thing?"

"Not right now." I smirk at the ginger. "Maybe someday."

"I should have guessed." His hands grip my hips and pull me towards him, his lips brushing my ear. "When the day comes, you're going to be asking why you waited so long."


	11. 07 ✮ Au Revoir, Charmer

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

A few days turn into almost a week and a half. Lila hasn't been here since our fight, and Jim has barely been here to see me. Then again, this is Gotham, and there is always a crime to solve and someone to arrest. That's just the way things are. So, to pass the time in this trailer, and circus, Jerome takes me out to explore Gotham and the circus. I find that many of girls in this circus have a desire for my best friend, and that they have been at his mercy once or twice over the years. Their lustful gazes only leave him to become harsh and jealous when they see me by his side.

"They don't stop staring, do they?" I ask, stretching my arms above my head as we leaving the main tent where Jim, Barbara and Dr Thompkins are sitting watching the acrobats. "Those slutty bitches are starting to get on my nerves, ginger."

Jerome slings an arm around my shoulder. "They're just jealous, little terror. They know they have no chance with me and they hate it."

We walk over to his trailer and I stop moving as soon as I catch the stench of cigarette smoke. I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms, and stalk towards the door. Jerome quickly follows me, anger flashing in his vibrant green eyes. Flinging the door open, I stop in my tracks when I see Lila sprawled out on the couch with some guy leaning over her, disgusting noises leaving her lips. A hand grips mine and begins to pull me back outside but I tear my hand from its grip, walking over to the whore and her latest victim.

I grab a handful of the guy's hair and tear him off her, causing him to scream in pain. As soon as he's gone from my sight, I turn to Lila with rage rolling off me in waves. She stands and smirks at me, taking a drag from her cigarette that is somehow still lit. The dress she's wearing falls back down to her knees and bile rises in my throat, as well as pure disgust and rage.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Lila?" I growl, walking over to her and slapping the cigarette out of her hand, stomping on it to stop the carpet from catching alight. "Fucking someone on the couch when anyone can walk in and see you? You sicken me to no end!"

Lila backhands me across the face and my head snaps to the side. "Mind your tongue, slut! You have no right to speak to me in that way."

I raise my arm out to the side and Jerome runs into it, preventing him from going any further forward. His body is trembling with rage, and that's not a good thing as of right now. Smirking at her, I grab her collar and drag her from the trailer, not caring if she bruises something along the way. She twists and yells in my grasp, but there's nobody around to hear her scream.

"If you want her dead, ginger," I call over my shoulder. "This is your only chance to do it before I fuck this bitch up and kill her myself!"

He doesn't respond, but I hear his footsteps retreating back to the trailer instead of following me. Continuing on my way, I tighten my grip on Lila's dress and grit my teeth as she digs her nails into my hand as an attempt to force my release of her. I don't release her until we reach the top of a small hill hundreds of metres away from the circus trailers. There, I release her and she falls to the ground, coughing like the old hag she is.

Walking a few paces away, I knot my fingers into my hair, trying to calm my raging temper and desire to tear her limb from limb. Giving up, I turn and stalk toward her, sending a kick to her stomach and causing her to fall from where she had managed to get up onto her hands and knees. Another follows and she cries out. Kick after kick after kick gets laid upon her bruising flesh, and I find that I can't bring myself to stop. The thing that causes me to stop is a hand gripping my right arm and pulling me away from her fallen form.

At that, still caught up in my rage, I spin around and slap them in the face. The sound resonates in the still air and my eyes widen when I realise who I hit. My hand shakily moves up and covers my mouth in shock, and my eyes begin to sting as tears form. Jerome stares down at me with unreadable eyes and a reddening mark on his right cheek. His posture is rigid and his jaw is clenched, but I think he realises that it wasn't my intent to hit him at all.

"Jerome, I am so sorry," I whisper brokenly. "I didn't mean to..."

His free hand cups my face. "I know. It's alright."

"Ginger..."

"Now, let's get this over with."

The ginger stalks over to the broken form of his mother and raises the weapon in his hand. The blade catches the light and my mind flashes back to the dream I had the day someone broke into the penthouse. He has a hatchet. Swinging it down, it buries itself into her soft flesh, and a scream of pain escapes her. Repeating the process, more screams leave her, and more blood stains the hatchet and splatters itself on my best friend. A maniacal laugh escapes him and a chill sweeps my body.

Hesitating for only a second, I walk over to him. Sadly, it's just as he swings down. Blood splatters all over me and I shake my head, sighing as I wipe it off my face. Killing is a bloody messy business, but it has to be done. Even if is painless, there is always a mess that requires cleaning up once it has been completed. I've never minded blood, but it's always left a stain on my clothes, and my soul - or what's left of it.

Staring down at the woman that's not making any more sound, I shake my head. "I think she's dead, ginger. She's not making any more sounds."

Jerome hesitates on his next swing, scanning the corpse. "It appears so. Time to get rid of the weapon and clean up this mess."

"Jerome, is that you?" an old, gravely voice calls. "What have you done this time?"

"Mr Cicero, what lovely timing," I sing-song. "Care to lend a hand in getting rid of a body?"

"Miss Gordon, I didn't expect to find you as an... accomplice to Jerome's killings."

"I'm not as innocent as I seem. Now, are you going to give us a hand, or do I need to dispose of you as well as this rotten whore's corpse?"

"There's no need to be threatening me, Miss Gordon. I have helped Jerome before, and I am not about to start leaving him to his own devices."

Jerome lays a blood covered hand on my shoulder and I look up at him as he speaks. "Thank you, Mr Cicero. Now, what do you suggest we do?"

The blind man motions for us to follow him, so we do. "We will leave her body right there. It's too much of a hassle to move it. Then, you will need to put some logo on the handle of that hatchet, Jerome. We need to throw them off your trail. Make sure you dispose of that weapon somewhere good."

Mr Cicero explains in detail what Jerome and I need to do, and I find myself beginning to like the man. He is smart, and I know that he is not a man to be played with. By saving Jerome's life, I can safely say that I am beginning to feel some trust blossom within me for this man. A blind fortuneteller. For some reason, the trust I feel for him feels like acid, and it makes me wary of him.

Half an hour later, after the hatchet has been disposed of, Jerome and I are back in his trailer. He is currently having a shower to scrub the blood off his skin, and I am stuffing our blood stained clothes into a plastic bag. Honestly, it was a waste of good clothes. There's no hope of getting the blood out of them. Sighing, I force the bag under Jerome's bed and then move over to my suitcase, pulling out some clean clothes.

I am half naked when Jerome walks into his room with only a towel around his waist. "Jerome! Knock! Naked!"

His green eyes widen in shock and then he turns away from me. "Fuck. Sorry, Cali. I actually forgot you were here for a second."

"How the hell did you do that? I've been here for almost two weeks."

"I have no idea."

I pull on a pair of black tights and contemplate wearing a different shirt to what I had planned. Shrugging, I throw the shirt into my suitcase and open Jerome's shirt draw, pulling out one with a Marvel print of Loki on it. Slipping it over my head, I smile at its size on me - not too big that it would fall off, and not so small that it looks as though it is one of my shirts. I slip a pair of Converse on my feet and am about to speak when Jerome says something.

"You know something, Cali?" Jerome says, glancing over his shoulder at me. "I just realised how uncomfortable you seem in your own skin."

I cross my arms and raise my eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that you're against anyone seeing you without a shirt and pants on."

"I don't like anyone seeing my body. That's all. They'd judge me. All they'd have to do is see all the damage that's been done to it and that's it. Judged."

He chuckles, slipping on the shirt he had laying on the bed. "You shouldn't listen to them. You're beautiful no matter what they say." His eyes flash to mine and they darken as he walks over to me. "Anyone who would dare disrespect you has something coming for them. Just you wait and see."

I shiver at his words. "Get dressed, ginger. I want to go see the performance."

I walk out of his room and close the door, leaning against it and letting out a deep breath. Every time he is close to me, my body betrays me and wants to jump him - especially when he's only wearing a towel and a shirt. Shaking my head, I push the thoughts out of my mind and walk into the small kitchen, flicking the switch for the kettle. Moments later, an arm slips around my waist and I look up at my best friend with a 'are you being serious' look. All he does is shrug.

The kettle clicks off the second someone knocks on the door. Jerome slips on a jacket and hands me the one he's been letting me borrow before walking over to the door with me in tow. Jerome sticks his head out and I peer out from behind him. Jim is standing in front of the trailer, with Barbara and Dr Thompkins hovering behind him. Off to the side stands the ringmaster. None of them look happy. Something has happened, and it's not good news.

"GCPD," Jim says in detective mode. "We need to speak with Lila."

Jerome steps out and I follow him as he slips his jacket on. "She's not here. Why? What's happened?"

"Where is she?"

I close the door and Jim's eyes flash to me, widening slightly. "Hey, James."

"Cali? This is the friend who came to the station?"

"Yeah."

Jim turns back to the ginger. "I'm sorry. Where is she?"

Jerome fixes his jacket up. "I don't know she was supposed to be home ages ago."

"You a relative?"

"I'm her son. Jerome."

"Jerome. When did you last see her?"

"This morning," I supply when I see my friend struggling. "She was here when we left for the library."

"Relax, Jerome, Accalia," the ringmaster says, stepping forward and placing a hand on Jerome's shoulder. "This man is only here because Owen and Al had a disagreement."

Jerome gives the man in red a worried look.

"Your mother's fine. Gone on a spree no doubt."

Dr Thompkins and Barbara frown and share a look at the word 'spree'.

"You know how she is."

"A spree?" Jerome asks incredulously, stepping towards the man and making my worry spike, so I place my hand on his arm. "Without her hat? Her coat? Her purse?" Jerome's gaze flickers to Jim, and then he moves towards the snake cage in front of the trailer, lightly running his fingers over the bars. "Look at Sheba. She's distraught." Jerome looks back over at Jim. "She knows something's wrong."

"The snake does seem to be agitated," Jim agrees with a forced smile.

"Sir," the ringmaster says with a strained chuckle. "She's what you call a party girl. Back in the morning with her knickers in her handbag. Sure as eggs."

Jerome becomes uncomfortable at the mention of his mother being a 'party girl'. I shuffle closer to him and he wraps an arm around my shoulders, my arms going around his waist and my head resting on his shoulder.

"But she didn't take her handbag, did she?" Jim asks, looking at Jerome and I out the corner of his eye.

The ringmaster looks away and Jim's focus turns to Sheba.

"How fast can an animal like that move?"

"Uh, a fast walking pace," Jerome informs, confused at the question. "They rely on surprise mainly."

"Let her out."

"I'm sorry?" Jerome's eyes widen in shock, not sure if he understood him right.

"Let her out." Jim smiles.


	12. 08 ✮ Questioning the Ginger

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

Dr Thompkins and Barbara back away as Jerome lifts Sheba from her cage. The snake's tongue flickers out several times before it begins to move, slithering in the opposite direction to the main tent. Jim, Dr Thompkins, Barbara, and the ringmaster follow the snake instantly, but Jerome hesitates. He doesn't want to see where this goes, but he has to. I gently take his hand and pull him along behind me, giving him a reassuring smile. He gives me a weak smile and begins to follow me, catching up to me with his long strides.

The snake leads us to a hay cart. Confusion rolls through me at the sight, and I share a look with Jerome. He's just as confused at the sight of Sheba sliding in under the tarp covering the cart. Stopping a few feet from the cart, Jim continues forward and rips the tarp off, revealing Lila's broken and bloodied form. She looks worse than earlier, and I didn't think it possible.

"Oh my god," Barbara gasps.

Jerome lets out a pained cry and falls to his knees, pulling me with him. I wrap my arms around him and play the part of a comforting best friend as Dr Thompkins places a hand on Jerome's shoulder, Barbara doing the same to me, but digging her fingers in slightly. She knows something is wrong with this picture, but she's not voicing it. Jim's gaze turns to us and softens at the sight, but there's still a hard edge to his gaze. It's as if he's not believing what he's seeing.

I meet Jim's eyes and he raises his eyebrows in a silent question: 'Is he faking this?' I slightly shake my head, turning my gaze back to my best friend and resting my head on his shoulder. Jerome's fingers entwine with mine on one hand and gives my hand a squeeze, either thanking me for doing this or telling me that I am being a good actress. No matter which it is, I am glad that he is understanding I am here for him even when he's the murderer in this instance.

The ringmaster looks away from the body and appears to have a guilty look in his eyes.

Jim instantly notices it and glares at him. "You knew. You knew she was here."

"No."

"Look at me."

The ringmaster hesitantly meets Jim's eyes. "She was like that when we found her."

Jim's eyes darken. "Where did you find her?"

"Follow me."

The ringmaster walks away, Jim and Dr Thompkins following him. Barbara hesitates, sending a look down at Jerome and myself before following after them. Jerome meets my eyes and gives me a smirk once everyone is out of sight, and I find myself smiling in response. Climbing to my feet, I dust the grass off before following after everyone else. Jerome does the same and continues to pull off his act, sniffling and wiping his eyes. We meet them at the top of the small hill she was killed on.

"A couple of riggers found her right here," the dark skinned man informs. "We decided to hide her on the truck. We were going to give her a proper burial as soon as we got back on the road."

"Decent of you. Who's 'we'? Who else knew?"

"Just me and the head of the families. If an outsider killed her, what can you do? An act of God. If it was one of us, we always find out. And we make sure they're punished."

"How?"

"We have our ways."

"And we have ours. Hook him up."

An officer that had walked over to us slaps a pair of handcuffs onto the ringmaster's wrists, pulling him away. The man in red doesn't fight against the officer, but doesn't exactly go willingly. In the distance, members of the circus are being walked from the main tent and put into the back of police cars, ready to be transported to the precinct. Barbara and Dr Thompkins leave with Harvey when he comes over, leaving Jim with a 'distraught' teenager and his best friend.

"Do you two want a lift to the precinct?" Jim asks, keeping a careful eye on Jerome. He doesn't trust the ginger. "You're going to have to come in eventually."

I look over at Jerome and he nods. "We'll come with you. It would be easier than hailing taxi."

Following Jim, my best friend and I make our way over to his car. Thankfully it isn't a cop car. Jerome slides into the back and pulls me in with him, much to Jim's distaste. Despite that, there's a softness in his steel eyes that makes me think that there's hope for a bond yet. The trip to the precinct is short and silent, but the entire building is going to be swarming with circus performers by the time we get there.

Walking in a few minutes later behind Jim, Jerome and I bear witness to Harvey's utterly baffled expression. He isn't sure what to think about this sight - girls in leotards or almost nothing, feathers and boas, and glitter covering the entirety of all performers. Jim walks over to him with a giant grin. At least I have the decency to give Harvey an apologetic look on his partner's behalf.

"Morning, partner," Jim says cheerily, walking over and patting him on the shoulder as he walks past. "Gonna need a little help here."

"No kidding," Harvey says shocked, but catches himself. "I mean, you're kidding, right? This isn't an elaborate prank or...?"

I let out a small laugh, maneuvering Jerome around the desks. "Sorry about this, uncle Harvey. The Snake Charmer was murdered late last night or early this morning. We've all been pulled in for questioning."

"Sure, kiddo. Of course there's got to be a damn murder to pull in the circus freaks."

Jerome half glares at Harvey. "We're not all freaks, Detective Bullock. Some of us were born into it and have no say about living in it."

"Accalia, Jerome," Jim calls, drawing our attention. "Up here. Protocol. Have to ask you a few questions."

**✮✮✮**

"Tell me about your mother, Jerome," Jim requests, resting his arms on the table between the three of us.

"She's my mother," Jerome says, bis voice utterly vulnerable and broken. He's a brilliant actor. "What can I say? I love her. She's perfect. Not a very good cook."

Jim chuckles.

"Except for that..."

"Did she have any enemies? Someone with a grudge?"

"No."

"Boyfriends?"

"No."

"No?" Jim asks, surprised.

"She had lovers," Jerome explains. "They're sex partners really, but not boyfriends. She didn't want the commitment."

I roll my eyes and lean against Jerome, suddenly feeling exhausted. Looking over at the clock, I realise why. It's almost seven in the morning and I haven't slept since last nights ordeal.

"Alphonse Grayson?"

"Yes, he was one of them."

"Owen Lloyd?"

"Yes."

"Any others?"

Jerome shakes his head. "Not that I could put a name to."

How do you feel about your mother's love life?"

"I feel fine about it."

Jim gives him a disbelieving look.

"If not for my mother's love life, I wouldn't be here, would I?"

I fight the urge to scoff.

"Sex is a healthy human activity."

Jim's eyes widen and he looks as though he is at a loss for words. "Yes, it is."

Jerome says nothing, but, when he glances over at me, there's a dark glint in the forest green. It's promising and daring, and a little dangerous.

"Do you have any other family?"

"The circus is my family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey superwolves.
> 
> So, I've kind of changed the story a little here so it fits in with what I have planned. Don't worry, it's nothing too drastic. Just a change in the time of death.
> 
> \- Chey xo -


	13. 09 ✮ Psychotic Showdown

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

Jerome and I are about to leave when we hear an all too familiar voice.

"Excuse me," Mr Cicero calls. "Am I speaking to Detective James Gordon?"

Jim turns away from Barbara and Dr Thompkins, and gives the blind man a once over. "Yes."

"Then this must be Dr. Thompkins, the medical examiner, and Miss Barbara Kean, your fiancee."

"I'm sorry, how did you know who we were?"

"My name is Paul Cicero. I'm a psychic with the sideshow. Lila Valeska was an old friend of mine."

"A psychic. I see. How could I help you, Mr. Cicero?"

"I sense that you don't think Owen or Alphonse are guilty"

"You must be psychic."

"In which case, perhaps you'd like to hear the message Lila sent me from the other side."

"Thanks, Mr. Cicero, we're not quite looking at the other side just yet."

"As you wish. I'm merely a messenger."

"What's the message?" Dr Thompkins asks, butting into the conversation rudely.

"Thank you, Doctor." Mr Cicero straightens up. "Lila told me that the servant of the Devil lies in the garden of the Iron Sisters."

"The Iron Sisters? What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

"We'll get right on it," Jim informs, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"I don't think sarcasm is your métier, James. Make of the message what you will. Good day to you both."

"Well, that wasn't very open-minded of you," Barbara teases.

"Oh, come on, Barbara," Jim sighs, looking over at both Dr Thompkins and Barbara. "He's a fraud. He's gonna go straight to the press and say he's consulting on the case. He's looking for publicity."

"Maybe."

"If you were gonna send a message from beyond the grave, don't you think priority number one would be the killer's name and not a riddle?"

"Who knows how it works?"

"Alright. I'm not gonna argue with you."

"Good."

**✮✮✮**

Hours later, Jerome and I are lounging on his bed, strangely wide awake. We haven't slept in over twelve hours, but there's no trace of exhaustion in my bones. Jerome's eyes are alive with a strange light and ferocity that I've never seen before. He's finally free of his tormentor, and there's nothing that can stop him now - not even being caught and thrown into Arkham. The ginger is free, and he's not going to be climbing back into the cage of abuse anytime soon.

"You seem different, ginger," I say, rolling onto my stomach and propping my head up on one hand. "Is it because you finally killed that bitch who called herself your mother?"

Jerome laughs. "I feel free, Cali. It's like there's nothing holding me back any longer."

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but you deserve to know."

"What is it?"

"I have a nagging feeling that something is going to happen; something bad. I feel like they're going to find out we both played a part in killing her and we're going to be locked away at Blackgate or Arkham. Ginger, I don't want that to happen."

"I won't let that happen to you. Alright? You're not getting locked away for something I've done. If it was anyone else, I'd throw them under the bus in a heartbeat - both literally and figuratively. You're different. I care too much about you to do that." His eyes meet mine and they're utterly sincere. "You're the one thing in this fucked up world that makes sense to me."

I shake my head and smile, allowing myself to be swallowed by his warmth. Our contentment doesn't last long. It is broken by the shrill ringing of my phone. Answering it, my expression drops almost instantly as Jim explains that new evidence has turned up on the case, and that he wants Jerome and I to come down to the precinct as soon as we possibly can.

Hanging up, I jump up off the bed and pull on Jerome's jacket, all the while explaining to him what's going on. Jerome's eyes darken, and he follows my actions. We rush out to the road, me being on the phone to the taxi company as we weave our way through the tents and attractions, and our pounding hearts don't cease even when we climb into the taxi and tell them to get to the GCPD precinct as quickly as they can.

A dark cloud of threat and promise of discovery looms over us as we pull up outside the GCPD only minutes later, and it only worsens as Alvarez takes Jerome away from me. Harvey leads me to an interrogation room without a word and my heart leaps into my throat as I look over my shoulder at the ginger. His eyes meet my petrified ones and they begin to burn with anger, hating seeing me in such a state. He doesn't care about anyone else, only me - he'd kill anyone who got between him and I, as well as anyone who meant me harm.

Entering the interrogation room, I find four people already seated and waiting for me. Jim, Barbara, Mr Cicero and Dr Thompkins are waiting patiently for me, and I have a sickening feeling about the events about to unfold. I lean against the wall and swallow my fear as best I can, not even bothering to hide the fact that I am nervous about this new 'evidence' that has shown itself.

Jim is the one that breaks the silence. "Good evening, Mr. Cicero. Sorry to bring you down here so late."

Mr Cicero gives us all a tight-lipped smile. "Good evening, Detective Gordon; Dr. Thompkins and Miss Kean; Miss Gordon."

"How did you...?" Dr Thompkins asks, sharing a look with her blonde friend.

"He smells your perfume. We solved the message Lila sent you."

"Oh?"

"Took us to Arkham Bridge Park. We found a hatchet there with Satanist symbols scratched into it."

The old man actually looks disturbed at the mention of the Satanist symbols. "Dear lord."

"You know what that hatchet means, Mr. Cicero?"

"Tell me."

"It means you're an accessory to murder."

"Such drama. I merely passed along a message."

"A message from the dead. Didn't happen. Which means you invented the message." Jim is using his 'I am in no mood for bullshit' voice, and that means he's about to be ruthless. "Which means you had someone plant the hatchet for us to find. You wanted us to think Satanist were responsible for Lila's death. You're protecting somebody."

"Lila spoke to me. That's all."

"You know, a hatchet is a clumsy ploy. You wouldn't try it unless you were desperate. Which suggests you're protecting someone close. Someone you love."

"This fantasia was conjured in your blinkered mind. If you could only see what I see..."

Jim looks up as the door opens and I follow his gaze to see Jerome walking in. His green eyes are confused when he sees Mr Cicero sitting at the table in front of Jim. I smile at him and he returns the motion, but it is hesitant, his act back into full play right now. Moving over to his side, I pull a chair around and sit beside him, not prepared to leave him to face my foster father on his own.

"Hi, Jerome. Please. Take a seat. You know Mr. Cicero, from the show."

"Yes, sir," Jerome says, ever the well-behaved teenager. "Hello, Mr. Cicero."

Mr Cicero tilts his head in recognition. "Good evening, Jerome."

"Do you know why you're here?" Jim asks.

Jerome's eyes widen in hope and he leans forward. "Did you find out who killed my mother?"

"You killed your mother, Jerome."

"Me?" He is shocked that anyone would suspect him of killing his mother. Damn he's good.

"You killed her up on that hill and Mr. Cicero helped you cover the murder. He told you to scratch the Satanist stuff on the hatchet and throw it off the bridge."

"Sir, that's... absurd and... and offensive."

"But it's the truth. What I don't know is why this man risked so much to help you. I think he's your father."

My eyes widen and I look between the two, not wanting to believe what Jim is saying. There are similarities between the two, but nothing that would confirm that they are of blood relation.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Jerome exclaims, baffled. "My father was a sea captain."

"Am I wrong, Mr. Cicero?" Jim asks, looking at the older man.

"Yes," the old man says stubbornly.

"He was a sea captain," Jerome continues. "His name was Sven Karlsen. He died at sea."

"What was the name of his ship?"

"He worked on a lot of different ships."

"The one he went down in."

Jerome's expression becomes confused, before turning sad. "She never said."

"We can do a blood test to prove I'm right. It takes only half an hour to get a foolproof result. Isn't that right, Dr. Thompkins?"

"Yes," Dr Thompkins said.

"Save yourself a needle."

"I do hate needles," Mr Cicero says with a pained expression.

Jerome looks over at Mr Cicero in confusion, and I find the sickening feeling in my stomach growing. This is something that none of us expected, and it's only made matters worse.

"I'm sorry, Jerome."

"What are you talking about?"

"He's right. I am your father."

"No, you're not. Why would you say that?"

"You must have suspected the truth."

"You're not my father. My mother would never..."

Jim's eyes widen, not sure where Jerome is going.

"Your mother was a cruel woman; she was often unkind to me, but she did once love me, in her way. And she loved you very much. That's why she gave you a better father."

Jerome begins to cry, but it soon gives way to a creepy laugh that causes the hairs on my arms to rise. "My mother was a cold-hearted whore who never loved anyone. And she'd never touch a pathetic old creep like you."

"All these years, do you think I was kind to you because I'm such a good man? If I wasn't your father, would I help you as I have, after what you did?"

Jerome looks over at a baffled Jim and drops his facade. "My father... Hm. I'll be damned. Oh, that's very funny." A psychotic laugh leaves him and I fight the urge to grin. He makes drumming motions before dropping his arms back onto the table. "Ba-doom-shh! Looks like the bitch got me with a zinger in the end."

"Why did you kill your mother, Jerome?"

"Oh, you know how mothers are." He waves his hand as if it's nothing, but then anger rises to the surface and he loses his cool. "She just kept pushing. And I'm like, fine, mum. Be a whore. Be a drunken whore, even. But don't be a nagging drunken whore. You know? Don't come yell at me to do the dishes if you've been banging a clown in the next room! You know?"

Another psychotic laugh escapes him, and this one raises red flags in my mind.


	14. 10 ✮ Arkham Asylum

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

Not even an hour later, Jerome is being shipped off to Arkham Asylum. They had a fight from me, that's for sure. I wouldn't let him go, and, every time one of the officers tried to take me from him, I would scream. Jerome wouldn't let them near me either. If any of them tried to lay a hand on me, he would instantly lash out. It was like an animal defending its mate - they would fight to the death to save the one they love. The ginger is no different, and neither am I.

Eventually, Barbara managed to get me away from him. Kicking and screaming I fought against her as several officers were having trouble restraining Jerome. His eyes were promising death to all of the police officers, and anyone else who decided to lay their hands on me. A sharp prick stings my upper arm and my eyes widen as I look over to see Dr Nygma with a syringe in his grasp, an apologetic look on his face. Through the haze, I force myself to look back over to where the officers were dragging Jerome out of the precinct.

"Accalia!" His cries fill the building. "Damn it! Let go of me! Accalia!"

I can't manage more than a whisper. "Jerome."

"Cali! Don't you go to sleep! Stay awake!"

"Ginger, help me."

" _Accalia_!"

**✮✮✮**

Warmth encompases me and a familiar scent tickles my nose, causing a small smile to grow on my face. Reaching out, I seek the source of the warmth, only to soon reach the cold material of the sheets not too far from by body. My eyes fly open and I push myself into a half sitting position, my head spinning and the entire room becoming out of focus. There's no ginger in here; only the red of my pillowcases. It really happened. I thought it was all just a bad dream.

"Jerome," I breathe in a scratchy voice. Registering the dried tears on my face, I look down at my pillow to find a wet patch. I had been crying in my sleep. "No. Damn you, James. You just had to keep pushing."

"How are you feeling, Miss Gordon?" Dr Nygma says, walking into my room without knocking. "Officer Gordon and Miss Kean are worried about you after what happened at the GCPD."

"You stay the hell away from me. You drugged me!"

"You were going to hurt yourself, or someone else. I had no choice."

"Letting me go to my friend would have been a better one."

"He is unstable. There was an almost 98% chance that he was going to end up seriously hurting someone. None of us were prepared to risk that being you."

I stand from my bed and stalk over to him, backing him up against the wall. " _He's_  the unstable one? Mr Nygma, you're not as stable as you believe yourself to be. I mean, how could you be? You talk to yourself!"

His eyes narrow. "He is  _not_  a figment of my imagination, Miss Gordon!"

"Now, who would be interested in hearing that,  _Edward_? Possibly, Commissioner Essen. Or maybe even James Gordon?"

"You little bitch!"

His hand wraps around my throat and he spins us around, forcing me up against the wall. At his actions, a crazy laugh escapes me. His grip tightens and I feel my air supply beginning to be cut off. My laugh grows and Edward grows confused, his brow furrowing and his lips parting. I stare at him with twinkling eyes and a smirk plastered onto my face. It must unnerve him, because his hand disappears from my body and he steps back, his eyes searching my face.

"Oh, Edward. I knew there was a dark side to you."

A smirk graces his face. "You don't know the half of it, Miss Gordon."

I raise my eyebrow and cross my arms. "I have a favour to ask you."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"I want to visit Jerome."

"Very well. I'm not against it. Come with me and I'll give you a lift."

Half an hour later, the asylum looms above us. It's like a scar on Gotham that's never going to heal, and it's an ominous presence that would give even the most unfeeling individual a sense of dread of foreboding. Edward looks over at me, but doesn't hesitate to drive through the front gates once everything is in order. Pulling up out the front, as soon as I am out of the car, a guard guides myself and Edward inside and over to the main desk, telling us to write down our names, who we want to visit, and how long we plan on spending at Arkham - but nothing longer than three hours.

Feeling tears sting my eyes, I fill out the boxes, my hand shaking as I write my best friend's name. I reluctantly write out the maximum amount of time, wanting to write a larger number. The receptionist hands us two visitor passes to clip onto our shirts, and then snaps her attention up to us when she reads the name on the form. Her hazel eyes are shocked, and borderline scared. She knows exactly who Jerome is, and that means she would have heard about the girl he spent most of his time with - me. Although, I'm not sure if the Gazette has kept my name out of the papers or not.

"Miss Gordon," the guard says. "Please follow me. I'll take you to one of the visitation rooms we have sectioned off."

Quickly walking after him, we round the corner. "Are there any rules?"

"Considering that Mr Valeska was only admitted here yesterday, I would say that there will be a guard in the room - most likely me. I'm not entirely certain about physical contact. Since he has been here, Mr Valeska has been in several fights."

"Excuse me?!"

"It's a sort of rite of passage here. In order to establish themselves among the other inmates, the new admissions are required to show their strengths and weaknesses in order to be decided where in the hierarchy they place."

"And where exactly is Jerome placed?"

The guard chuckles at my attitude. "Mr Valeska has proven himself to be very... strong and manipulative since his arrival. He's made himself a name and place in the highest group."

"That sounds like my ginger."

"We're here."

Stopping outside a door, I feel myself hesitant to open the door. Looking over to Edward for support, he smiles encouragingly and motions for me to open the door. Smiling in thanks, I grip the door handle and twist it to the side, hearing the lock click as the door begins to swing inwards. Swallowing, I push the door further open and step inside, my eyes sweeping the small and slightly furnished room. It is the object in the corner that really catches my attention.

It's a bed.

I look over my shoulder, giving the guard a strange look. "Mr...?"

"Scott," the guard supplies.

"Mr Scott, why is there a bed in here?"

"Some visitors have loved ones here. They come to meet, and, sometimes, fuck. We don't leave the cameras on while the inmates are doing that, but we are required to leave on audio just in case the inmate has breakdown and starts to act out."

I wrinkle my nose in disgust. "Please tell me you change the sheets once that's done with."

Mr Scott laughs. "Of course we do. We're not all horrible people here, Miss Gordon."

"That's a relief."

"Now, please take a seat. I will bring Mr Valeska along with me."

Just as he is about to leave, I stop him with my words. "I like you already, Mr Scott. Do not let me down, or make me feel as though I have no reason to trust you. If you do, you will see a whole new kind of crazy."

His blue eyes laugh as he looks over his shoulder. "Alright, miss. I'll take your word on that."

Leaving the room, Mr Scott closes the door, locking it behind him. It makes my stomach turn. Although I know it's more for our safety from the inmates more than anything else, it still gives me an uneasy feeling. Edward sits on one of the chairs at the table and pulls his glasses off, setting them on the table. Sighing, I make my way over to the bed and sit, sinking into the softness of the mattress.

The minutes tick by and an uneasy feeling blankets the room. The longer I sit here, the more I feel as though he doesn't want to see me. Edward sees my uneasiness, but doesn't make a move to comfort me. From the look in his eyes to the relaxed body language, I can tell that the person in this room is not the Dr Edward Nygma everyone at the GCPD knows; this is the darker half of Edward Nygma that none see. I feel as though this man is desperate to get blood on his hands.

"Do you not think he's coming, Accalia?" Edward asks, the use of my name confirming my suspicions. "Do you honestly think that he won't want to see the girl he loves?"

My heart skips a beat at his words. "Ginger? Love me? Please. We're just friends."

"What I saw yesterday was not 'just friends'. That boy is in love with you."

I stay silent, my mind spinning.

"They say sociopaths don't feel human emotion, but that's wrong."

"Psychopaths don't feel. Sociopaths are just people with an antisocial personality disorder. It's a cluster B personality disorder - those which are dramatic or emotional. While the traits of each may seem similar, it is thought that sociopaths have a less severe form of lack of empathy and lack of guilt. It is thought that sociopaths may be able to form some deep bonds, while a psychopath cannot do so."

"A psychopath is callous, yet charming," Edward adds. "He or she will con and manipulate others with charisma and intimidation and can effectively mimic feelings to present as 'normal' to society. They are organised in their criminal thinking and behaviour, and can maintain good emotional and physical control, displaying little to no emotional or autonomic arousal, even under situations that most would find threatening or horrifying. The psychopath is keenly aware that what he or she is doing is wrong, but does not care."

"Jerome is like that, but he shows quite a lot of emotion around me."

"There's your proof. He loves you. After all, you have been there since you were... six? Seven? He was only eight at the time. So, you would have impacted on how much of the psychopathic and sociopathic traits he took on."

Just as I am about to reply, the lock clicks and the door swings open. A flash of ginger is all I see, and that's enough for me to jump to my feet. Forest green eyes stare into mine with glee and I feel my eyes begin to burn, tears forming as I take in the slightly battered boy in front of me. He only takes a few steps into the room and I run over to him, throwing myself into his arms and beginning to sob as his arms wrap themselves around my waist, and his face burying itself into the join of my neck and shoulder.

"Hey, little terror."

"Ginger..."


	15. 11 ✮ Jealous, Ginger?

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

Jerome's arms don't release me fully. He leaves one arm around my waist, holding on to me like I am going to vanish right in front of him. As soon as he sees who I have brought with me, I am pushed behind him and his eyes are burning with fury. He recognises Edward from yesterday, and I don't blame him for being pissed off, but he could at least attempt to understand why the doctor did what he did. Gripping Jerome's hand, I walk out from behind him despite his attempts to keep me there.

Standing in front of him, I place my free hand on the side of his face. "It's alright, ginger. He's not going to hurt me."

Jerome relaxes at the contact, but his eyes are still wary. "He drugged you. How are you trusting him?"

"He did it to stop me from hurting myself. Edward and I have known each other for years, almost as long as we've known each other. In some way, he cares about me. Alright?"

"You have no need to worry, Mr Valeska," Edward says, his normal stuttering voice nowhere in sight. "Accalia is someone I care deeply for. I would never hurt her."

Jerome's eyes narrow, scanning the dark haired M.E. "You're different from yesterday. What's wrong with you? There has to be something for this drastic of a change."

I put my lips to the ginger's ear. "Split personality. Severe. One is stuttering Edward who wouldn't hurt a fly, and the other is, well, what you see here. He's as insane as you and I, ginger."

"Keep your lips there and I won't be responsible for what happens, little terror."

I pull back, raising an eyebrow and crossing my arms over my chest. Walking backwards, I half skip over to the bed, flopping down onto it and grinning up at the ginger, his green eyes annoyed with my teasing. As he stalks over to me, his eyes predatory, I catch movement as Edward slips out of the room, sending Mr Scott a smile while saying something. My gaze turns back to Jerome as he carefully sits down beside me, his face utterly vulnerable and bare.

He raises his hand and hesitantly places it on the side of my face, my hand resting on top of his and my eyes fluttering shut as his warmth soaks into my cold skin. It's only been a day, but after living with him for two weeks, I was craving his touch after only being apart hours. Opening my eyes, I smile at him and his lips curve into a matching one; a smile not tainted with malice, craziness or desire. It's a smile that I rarely see, and that fact makes warmth pool in my stomach and butterflies to flutter in my stomach.

"There's something wrong," Jerome murmurs. "Isn't there?"

My smile shrinks away and I nod slightly.

"What's wrong, Cali? Are you hurt?"

"No. Physically, I'm fine. It's just some stuff that Edward said. They're making me....rethink things."

"I don't follow."

"He said you..."

"It's alright. You can talk to me about anything, you know that."

"The way you acted at the precinct yesterday when the officers touched me, Edward saw something in your eyes - not the stuttering Edward, but the other one. He said that you... that you seemed like you loved me."

Jerome says nothing, but he is listening intently.

"Earlier, when Mr Scott was getting you, for some reason, I began to think that you weren't going to come. Edward gave me a look and asked 'do you honestly think that he won't want to see the girl he loves?' Honestly, my heart skipped a beat, but I told him that we were just friends. Then he said that what he saw yesterday was not 'just friends'; that you are in love with me."

"It sounds like I'm going to have a little chat with this Edward. He seems interesting, and quite intelligent."

I watch as Jerome's eyes begin to sparkle, alive with fire and delight. Behind that, there's fear - and quite a lot of it. I've never known the ginger to be afraid of anything, so I am not sure how to handle this situation. Sighing, I lay down on the bed, pulling Jerome with me. His arm works its way around me and holds me as I soak up the warmth radiating off him, heating my cold body.

He sighs and pokes my cheek, drawing my attention. "Cali, you should know something."

I don't move, but I make a sound to show that I am listening. I don't want to push him to say anything that he doesn't want to reveal.

"I'm scared. I've never been scared before, and it feels... liberating in a way."

"What are you scared about?"

Shifting slightly, he swallows. "I am scared about telling you what I am about to tell you; the truth."

Rolling slightly so I'm laying on my stomach beside him, I look up at his green eyes. They're staring right back at me with sincerity.

"Your medical friend, he is right."

I find myself at a loss for words. Jerome's admission had caused my heart to skip another beat, and my eyes to sting with tears; tears of disbelief and happiness. My lack of words is taken the wrong way as Jerome's eyes darken and he shoves me away, moving away from me as fast as humanly possible. I watch without knowing what to do as he buries his hands into his hair and pulls at it, ripping out strands with every tug. As his hands move to his arms and his fingernails begin to dig in, I launch myself at him and grip his hands tightly, glaring into his tormented green eyes.

Tears run down my face and I shake my head, holding his hands to my chest, so he can feel my heart beating. His body relaxes, but his eyes remain tormented and hurt. The look causes me to begin to cry, my body shaking as I bow my head to hide my emotion. Moments later, his arms wrap themselves around me and hold me softly against him, rocking back and forth as he hums a wordless song that I recognise as 'Jerome' by Zella Day. I smile and clutch his Arkham uniform, not ready to let him go.

"Cali, I'm sorry," Jerome whispers, holding the back of my head. "I shouldn't have admitted that to you. It's my fault you're like this right now."

I shake my head. "No. It's not."

"You're crying."

"Not sad tears, ginger. I'm happy. So happy."

He pulls away from me and stares down at me, pushing hair out of my face.

I smile up at him and sniffle, wiping my tears away. "I love you too, ginger. I always have, and I always will. Don't you ever forget that."

For the remainder of our time, we spend it laughing about our childhood together. Truth be told, Jerome and I only met during the winter months in Gotham due to Haly's Circus being a travelling circus, which meant that I never got to spend his birthday with him, but he got to spend mine with me. When we were younger, we used to mess around with the circus equipment and watch as the performers completely screwed up their routines due to the tampered equipment. Those were the years that we wish for.

In the blurry confines of my memory, I can remember there being another child with ginger hair being with us. As soon as I mention it, Jerome shuts me down and changes the subject to something not relating to himself - usually something to do with the orphanage I spent the majority of my childhood in, or even the parents I never knew. Edward has returned by that time, and the three of us make up a plan for a road trip to that orphanage to see if there is anything in my file about my birth parents.

I can easily get it cleared with Jim and Barbara, especially if Edward is coming with me. They trust him to keep me safe and out of trouble, but, little do they know, he's the other trouble magnet. Jerome doesn't exactly feel comfortable sending me off on my own, even with Edward as company - more like especially with Edward as company. To placate the ginger, I tell him that I'll attempt to take Travis, an old friend of ours, with Edward and I. As soon as I say that, Jerome retorts that just "you and the medical freak are fine".

Mr Scott clears his throat, drawing all three of our attention. "I am truly to say this, Miss Gordon and Mr Nygma, but, your time is up."

Edward is the first to get to his feet and walk out of the room. "I leave you two to say goodbye. Just don't take too long, Accalia."

Flushing slightly, I roll my eyes and look over at my best friend, tears already threatening to fall.

Jerome sees the look and shakes his head, his own eyes glossing over. "Don't you start crying, little terror. Come on, you're stronger than this. Be strong for me, Cali."

I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut. "I don't want to leave you in this hell-hole, ginger. It's not fair."

He pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head. "Nothing in life is fair."

"I... I love you, Jerome."

"I love you too, Accalia."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey superwolves.
> 
> I did not actually originally plan for Jerome and Accalia to admit their feelings in this chapter, although, I'm pretty sure, after a decade of knowing each other, and after 11 chapters, they deserve some sort of happiness.
> 
> \- Chey xo -


	16. 12 ✮ Tailers and Visitations

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

I haven't visited Jerome in a week, but he understands. Having called Arkham and talked to Mr Scott allowed me to pass on a message to Jerome - Edward and I are a couple of days drive from Gotham visiting the orphanage I grew up in, and we won't be making it back for a few more days. Jerome's understanding of my situation makes me happy, because we both understand each other well enough to be able to trust that we wouldn't just up and leave the other.

Since the day at Arkham, I haven't really seen the stuttering and awkward friend that I practically grew up with. In his place is the confident and charming version of him that makes me both feel safe and as though he would throw us into harms way without a second thought - it's like we're at constant war within ourselves. Although, I would have to agree that I am at war within myself right now. It's a feeling that I've never really experienced over the years, and the whispers in my mind aren't exactly helping.

They want blood.

A part of me wants Jerome.

A part of me wants the truth.

A part of me wants to be blind.

Standing in front of the house of horrors that I spent my childhood at reminds me of Arkham. It's a bleak building with barred windows and no greenery in sight. The only difference is that there is no giant fence around the building to keep the children in - they're locked inside. Everything is the same as a decade ago, and it is unnerving. There's even still the hole in the wall where some of the children forced my head into it, leaving me with a permanent scar; and the cave in of the ground where they left me overnight in the middle of winter to freeze - I was half dead when they found me two days later.

Memories begin to flash in my mind and I feel my breathing beginning to speed up, my eyes burning and my vision becoming blurry. My knees buckle and I lose my footing, falling towards the ground. A pair of arms wrap themselves around my middle and hold me upright, supporting my entire weight. Looking up, I see Edward staring at me with concern and a hint of anger. He knows that I am not faint hearted, and that most things don't impact me, so what happened here must be extremely bad.

"Accalia, look at me," Edward says as my eyes begin to close, lightly tapping my cheek. "You need to stay awake. Accalia."

 _"Come on, little terror,"_  Jerome's voice murmurs softly in my mind.  _"You can do this. You're stronger than you think."_

I'm not strong enough for this, ginger...

_"Don't put yourself down."_

You don't know what they did to me...

_"Whatever they did, you need to pull yourself together - at least for the small amount of time you're going to be here. Please, Accalia. I need you to focus."_

Jerome...

"Accalia! Goddamn it."

I force my eyes open and push myself upright, using Edward as a support. "I'm fine, Edward. Let's just get this over with."

Edward's brow creases as he looks worryingly down at me. "We don't have to do this today."

"I'm fine."

"Your boyfriend will kill me if he hears you passed out on me. Quite literally, I might add."

"Nygma," I snap, causing him to half glare at me. "I am perfectly fucking fine. We need to get this done today. Do you understand?"

Edward nods sharply and moves away, but stays close enough to grab me if I begin to collapse again. Taking a deep breath, I straighten and begin to walk towards the building of horrors with purpose. The dark haired man follows closely behind, visibly reacting to the stench that wafts out when I force the door open. It sparks memories in my mind, but I force myself to focus, and push them to the side.

Children are everywhere. They're malnourished and severely lacking in vitamin D; their clothes are hanging off their small frames, and appear to be more rags than clothes. Scanning the bottom floor, I catch sight of an older woman, scolding a young child harshly for running into her. My anger flaring, I make my way over to the familiar woman and pull her away from the child, slamming her up against the nearest wall. Her deep brown eyes glare at me, and it harshens when she recognises me.

"Accalia," the woman spits, her tone venomous. "I thought I got rid of you for good, you filthy murderer."

I grin up at her, my eyes twinkling with insanity. "I guess I wanted to finish the job,  _mistress_."

"Then who will take care of these brats that no one wants?"

"Someone a hell of a lot nicer than you, you abusive fucker."

"What attitude. Now, we must fix that. Shouldn't we, love?"

I flinch back and run into Edward, releasing the woman. My mind reverts back to that of a small child living here - full of terror and pain - and my body begins to tremble uncontrollably. She smirks at me and walks right up to me, staring down her nose at me. Raising her hand, she swings it down. I freeze, unable to move to defend myself, and squeeze my eyes shut.

It never lands.

Hesitantly, I peel open my eyes. A hand is wrapped around her wrist, and her face is scrunched in annoyance and pain. Looking over my shoulder, I see a furious expression on Edward's face, and it sends a chill through my body. Acting on the instinct of an abused child, I move away from them both and scurry up the stairs, leaving them both on the bottom floor.

Without waiting for Edward, I run to the filing room. The door gives way almost instantly and I go inside, closing the door behind me and turning the light on. Rows of filing cabinets line the room and I feel my stomach drop at the sight. The labels on the draws are almost invisible, and, from what I can make out, they appear to be in no order.

We could be here for hours.

Then I catch sight of filing cabinet 'A'.

My gut tells me to open and search it, so, that's what I do. Making my way over to it, I knock over a pile or two, but I manage to get there in the end. Pulling open the top draw, I groan. There's at least fifty or so files in the draw. Scanning the names, I find that they're all in alphabetical concerning the first names of those who have been abandoned here. That single fact gives me a glimmer of hope, as well as the fact that there are only two 'A' cabinets. The one I'm looking in now appears to be all the males.

The door to the filing room opens and I spin on the spot, ready to defend myself this time.

Edward jumps a little when he sees me. "Shit! Accalia, it's just me. Can you put that goddamn knife away."

Flicking the blade away and putting it back into my pocket, I smile apologetically.

"How do you even have that? It was in evidence lock up the last time I checked."

"James gave it back to me two weeks ago. Said he snuck it out because he knew how much it meant to me. I'm guessing he regrets it now. After all, it was Jerome who gave it to me."

"That makes sense. Now." He claps his hands together and looks around the room. "How badly organised is this room?"

Rolling my eyes, I turn back to the male 'A' cabinet. "Very, but I've figured it out. They're ordered alphabetically by the child's first name. Very sad. Should have done it by year, and then last name. So much easier to find things then."

Closing the draw, I move over to the second 'A' cabinet and open the top draw. Behind me, Edward begins to mutter to himself as he opens and closes draws. Flicking through the files, I sigh. Aa. Ab. Ad. Ae. I stop, my fingers brushing the spot where the 'Ac' files are supposed to be. Cursing, I slam the draw shut. I weave my fingers into my hair and pull at it, letting out a scream. Edward's eyes fly to me, and, not even ten seconds later, he is looking through the draw I was previously.

"That's not right," he muses, eyes obviously scanning over the contents of the draw. "There should be 'Ac' files here, even if they're not yours. Although, your name is quite uncommon. So, I'm thinking that cancels out that idea. I wonder."

Turning my gaze to him, I watch as Edward closes the draw and moves to the far right of the room where the highly confidential files are. Frowning, I release my hair and follow him, thoughts churning in my mind. I find him going through the 'A' cabinet with his brow furrowed in concentration, and humming a small tune that I recognise as the nursery rhyme 'London Bridge is Falling Down'. Quickly flicking through the 'M' cabinet, I pull out a folder. Walking over to him, my eyes look over the files, one catching my attention.

Grabbing it from right underneath Edward's nose, I pull the file labelled 'Accalia G' from the draw. His dark eyes follow my actions, and then his feet follow me as I all but run from the room, the folder clutched in my hand. Ignoring all the children, and the abusive bitch that raised me, I run straight out the front door to Edward's car. Almost a minute later, Edward climbs into the driver's side and starts the car, looking over at me with a worried and curious expression.

"Are you going to see what's in it?" he asks, not bothering to hide his enthusiasm.

I shake my head. "Not right now. When we get back to Gotham, and when we go to Arkham. I'm not opening this without Jerome."

On our way back to Gotham, I get the feeling that we are being followed, and that we have been followed for this entire trip.


	17. 13 ✮ Night Terrors

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

**WARNING: This chapter contains abuse. Viewer discretion is highly advised.**

We reach Gotham in the dead of night, and I tell myself that there is no way I am going back to the penthouse with Jim and Barbara. So, instead, I tell Edward to take me to the circus. Frowning at my odd request, he doesn't voice his thoughts, but takes me there. Telling him to wait for me, I jump out of his car and run through the crowds of screaming people. The smell of sweat and candy makes my stomach turn, and I force myself to move faster. Everyone blurs as my feet move faster, crossing more distance.

Minutes later, I pull to an abrupt stop outside Jerome's trailer. Nothing has changed, except that Sheba is back in her cage, and half dead from not being fed for a week. I lift her out of the cage and set her on the ground, letting her go free. She's going to die in this circus if I don't let her go now, so it's best to save at least one other life from this hell. Turning my gaze back to the trailer, I let out a sigh before opening the door and walking in. I haven't been here in two weeks, and it's strange to see it again.

"You'd be happy, ginger," I say, making my way to his bedroom. "The trailer is still clean two weeks later."

Pulling two suitcases out from underneath the bed, I drop them onto the bed and turn to the wardrobe. Flinging open the doors, I pull out Jerome's clothes and fold them before stuffing most of them into one suitcase with minor difficulty. Putting the rest into the other one, I begin to pack his small amount of possessions on the small shelf in his room. Going into the bathroom, I take everything that belongs to him and drop it into the half filled suitcase, fighting the tears threatening to fall.

Before zipping the suitcase, I grab Jerome's pillow and shove it in too, not wanting to leave his favourite pillow behind in a trailer that someone else is eventually going to use. Slipping the almost empty bag off my back, I upend his bedside draw's contents into my bag. I'm not surprised to see several knives, or the box of condoms that don't appear to be open. Rolling my eyes, I drop the draw onto the bed, zip up the bag, sling it over my shoulder, grab the two suitcases, and leave the trailer I adored behind.

Minutes later, I throw the two suitcases into the back of Edward's car and then climb into the front seat, putting my bag on the floor and putting my seat belt on. "Okay. We can go now."

Edward looks over at the suitcases. "What do you plan on doing with them?"

"Well, I was going to ask if I could stay with you for a while. I don't exactly feel like living with James right now."

"You're more than welcome to. I have a back room that I can convert into a bedroom for you."

"Thanks, Nygma."

"You should at least let Jim know where you are, and that we're back."

"I'll do that later."

"As long as you let him know."

Driving away from the circus, I can't help but look back in mourning. That circus makes up the majority of my good childhood memories, and it feels strange seeing it fade into the distance. I can feel the happiness from the times Jerome and I spent running amuck bubbling inside me. There's a haunting thought in the back of my mind as I once again remember there being another child with the two of us, but I find myself pushing it to the back of my mind.

Half an hour later, Edward and I walk into his apartment, four suitcases in tow - one Edward's, one mine, and two Jerome's. Sighing, I walk over to the window and stare down at the twinkling lights of Gotham as Edward begins to clean out the back room for me. I do attempt to help him, but he gives me a glare and I instantly back away with my hands raised in surrender. Glancing out over the city, I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, unlocking it and letting my finger hover over Jim's contact.

Shaking my head, I hit the call button and hold the phone to my ear, listening to the ringing.

"Hello?" Jim asks in a tired voice, yawning.

I chuckle. "Sorry, James. Did I wake you?"

"No. You're fine, Accalia. So, who is it this time? The last time you called me, someone was dead."

"Don't remind me."

He laughs slightly. "Sorry. What's the matter?"

"I just wanted to let you know that Edward and I are back in Gotham." I hesitate before saying the next part. "Also, I'm going to be staying with him for a while. I don't know how long."

"Oh. Why?"

Sighing, I sit at the table. "James, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but..."

"You can't stand to be around me. I get it, Cali. I arrested your psycho best friend."

"He may have been crazy, and he may have killed his mother, but that fucking bitch deserved it - and worse! Trust me, James. It was either him or Lila."

"Accalia."

"No. I would take him alive and having committed matricide over his mother still beating him daily! Fuck you, James Gordon. You ruined both mine and his lives. Don't expect me to talk to you any time soon. Tell Barbara I love her." Before he can reply, I hang up and scream, throwing the phone against the wall. "Fuck!"

Edward clears his throat and I watch as he picks my phone up. "I take that it didn't go well."

I glare at him, not wanting to deal with his weird mood right now.

"No. Obviously not. Uh... Your room's ready."

Smiling slightly, I walk over to him and take my phone before walking into the back room. Three suitcases sit at the end of the bed, and the wardrobe doors are open, revealing plenty of space for my clothes. I unpack my suitcase, hanging up my clean clothes and dropping the dirty ones into the giant basket next to the wardrobe. Turning to the remaining suitcases, I sigh, unzipping the first and pulling out one of Jerome's larger shirts. I put it on the floor in front of the wardrobe and then take his pillow out of the second one before placing it with the second one.

Stripping down to my underwear and bra, I throw my clothes into the basket before slipping on Jerome's shirt. His scent encompasses me and I climb onto the bed, hugging the pillow and squeezing my eyes shut as I attempt to get some sleep. Surprisingly, it comes easily. Ever since Jerome got taken to Arkham, it has taken almost two to three hours for me to even feel tired enough to sleep.

My dreams are welcoming and warm, and I am with Jerome in his trailer, laughing at some old joke that he never stops telling. The laughter stops and, the next thing I know, his hands are gripping my hips in a bruising way, and mine are tangled in his ginger hair. I feel like I am burning from the inside out just from his kisses and touches, and I don't mind it one bit.

That dream doesn't last too long.

Soon, darkness descends on my dreams and everything changes dramatically. Jerome vanishes from my grip and I drop onto his bed, my eyes flying around the room in search of him. Climbing off the bed, I run from the trailer, only to end up on the bottom floor of the orphanage. Terror shoots through me and I scream as the old woman stalks over to me, brandishing a knife. I back up against a wall and shake as she moves closer, a sickening grin covering her face.

She swipes the blade at me and it cuts into my scarred arms, causing blood to pour from the gashes. Screams escape me, but she doesn't stop. Cut after cut after cut marrs my pale skin, and it turns to vibrant red colour that makes my stomach turn. Once my body is littered in enough of the gashes, the knife disappears from her hand, only to be replaced by a hot fire poker.

White hot pain shoots across my abdomen as she presses it against my skin, branding me. Screams tear themselves from my raw throat, and my vision begins to turn white. The pain is too much, and it's making my body short circuit. I spasm under the fire poker and writhe on the cold floor of the orphanage. Burn after burn is lathered onto my skin, and the blood from the gashes begins to seep into the burns, causing more pain to rocket through my body without mercy.

Screaming, I beg for someone to help me. The only sound that comes is the sadistic laughter of the woman looming over me, now brandishing a whip. My skin tingles at the memory of the stinging pain and I involuntarily curl into a ball. Laughter echoes in my ears as she raises the whip and brings it down, the leather easily ripping through my clothing and cutting through my skin. Shrill screams break free at each lash, and my body arches every time, baring more flesh for her to hit.

"Accalia!"

Screaming, I launch myself off the bed as soon as my eyes fly open. Slamming against a wall, I fall to the ground and stare in fear at the form sitting on my bed, my chest heaving and my breathing irregular. The form moves closer and another scream breaks itself from my lips, causing the form to freeze and raise their hands in surrender, relaxing onto the bed in the same spot.

"Cali," they say. "You're alright. I'm not going to hurt you. Okay? It's Edward."

I shakily nod, not trusting my voice.

"I'm going to turn the lamp on. Is that okay?"

I nod and light floods the room, causing me to squeeze my eyes shut. A shocked sound escapes Edward and I open my eyes slowly, my eyes adjusting to the small amount of light. Following his gaze, I look down at my hands and thighs, only to find them covered in torn skin and blood. Swallowing, I push myself to my feet and lean against the wall as pain erupts in my legs. Cursing, I move to my suitcase and pull out some antibacterial cream before almost collapsing back onto my new bed.

"What the hell was that?" Edward rasps, still not fully comprehending the situation. "And what the hell did you do to yourself?"

Hissing, I rub the cream into the torn skin on my thighs. "Night terrors. They happen sometimes, but they have rarely been bad enough for me to hurt myself in my sleep."

"Accalia, does Jerome know about these?"

I shake my head. "I didn't want him to worry about me - or know the hell I was put through."

"Why?"

"He went through enough hell living in that god forsaken circus."


	18. 14 ✮ Truth Hurts

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

**WARNING: This chapter contains abuse. Viewer discretion is highly advised.**   **  
**

Dressed in a black skirt that stops just before my knees with a vibrant red shirt tucked into it, my black combat boots, my satchel, and Jerome's jacket from weeks ago, I walk into Arkham with Edward right behind me, being guided, once again, by Mr Scott. The woman at the reception smiles at me this time, her hazel eyes alive and happy - quite obviously enjoying having another female around that isn't crazy. I return the smile and follow the guard past the recreation room.

Unfortunately, this time there are people in it.

Wolf whistles sound and I roll my eyes, but stop when Edward pokes my shoulder. Looking back at him, he motions into the room. Following his motions, I meet the bright blue eyes of my adoptive mother, and my jaw drops. Her eyes glisten with happiness and she skips over to us, a giant grin on her face. All I can do is stare at her Arkham uniform in disbelief when she stops right in front of me.

"Barbara?" I ask, blinking several times in shock. "What the hell did you do to get in here?"

"Killed my parents," the blonde replies, merely shrugging as though murder is a trivial thing.

"Well, you'll get along just fine with my best friend then."

"Ooh. Jerome's in here?"

"He killed his mother. At the circus? Remember?"

"Right. Sorry. My mind's a little mixed up right now. I just got over the aftershock of killing my parents. Now, I feel good about it."

I lower my voice. "Killing someone does give a little rush, doesn't it? It's addictive."

Her eyes widen. "What?"

"Miss Gordon," Mr Scott says, drawing my attention. "I am sorry, but I must cut this off. The patients are starting to get... rowdy, if you will, with your being here."

I smile, moving away from the fence. "No. I understand. See you later, Barbara."

"Accalia!" Barbara calls. "What the hell did you mean by that?! Accalia!"

Sending a wink over my shoulder at her, I follow Mr Scott to the visitation room from last time. At our exchange, Edward lets out a small chuckle but says nothing. Opening the door, I walk in and instantly plop onto the comfortable bed, sighing in delight as Edward sits down at the table once again and Mr Scott goes to collect Jerome from where ever the ginger gets to when he's not in the recreation room with the rest of those admitted to this horrific place.

It doesn't take as long as last time for Mr Scott to get Jerome. As soon as he walks through the door, I run over to him and wrap my arms around his neck, his hands going around my waist and lifting me off the ground as he spins me around. Setting me back on the floor, I tug my skirt back down from where it had risen and grin up at him, my eyes sparkling with a mixture of tears and happiness. An answering grin appears on his face as he takes my outfit in, and confusion spreads across his features when he sees the skirt.

"You don't wear skirts," Jerome murmurs, his forest green eyes looking up into my blue-green ones. "What's with the drastic change, little terror?"

Backing away from him, I watch as his expression becomes slightly terrifying. "There's something I never told you, ginger. Something I never told anyone until last night."

"Why are you backing away from me?"

"I don't know how you're going to react to what I'm going to say."

"This is really bad, isn't it?"

I nod, looking over to Mr Scott. All he does is nod and walk out of the room. A moment later, the red light turns off on the camera, and it's not missed by Jerome. His eyes zone in on my skirt as I sit on the bed, crossing my legs and allowing the black material to slip down, revealing the white of the medical patches. Jerome's jaw tenses and he clenches his hands, walking over to me and just standing there. My eyes flicker to Edward and he nods, getting up and leaving. As soon as we're alone, the ginger's eyes darken.

"Do you want to explain why there are medical patches on your thighs, or do you want me to force it out of you?" he asks, his voice deep and threatening.

Closing my eyes, I let out a shaky breath. "Jerome, I never told you about the years before I met you. I should have, so long ago, but... I was afraid. I thought I would lose you if I ever told you what happened."

"This better be relevant, Accalia, or I swear this is going to get ugly real quick."

"Stop threatening me for one goddamn second, sit your ass down and fucking listen!"

Jerome silently sits down on the bed, his expression surprised and furious. I stand up, playing with my fingers as I shift constantly in front of my best friend - and the one I love. Shrugging off Jerome's jacket, I lay it on the bed, causing his green eyes to follow the movement before looking back at me. Pushing up the sleeves to my red shirt, my arms feel bare and dirty without the make up I usually wear to cover the assortment scars decorating my body.

Instantly, his eyes are glued to my arms, taking in the array of scars in different shapes and sizes.

"I grew up in an orphanage. I was the victim of everything - even if it wasn't my fault."

His hand reaches for my arm and I move out of his reach, not wanting contact right now. Forcing myself to ignore is hurt expression, I continue.

"It started out with small things - tripping me over, bumping me into walls, throwing something a little too hard. As I got older, it got worse. They began purposely shoving me into the concrete walls, pushing me to the ground, smashing my head through the thinner walls of both the inside and outside of the building, and pegging stones and knives and anything heavy they could find at me. There was never a day that I was free from bruises or cuts or blood. There....There was even a day they pushed me into a small cave in from where the ground had eroded away. I was left there for almost three days in the middle of winter, and I was practically frozen to death by the time anyone found me.

It wasn't even two days later when the beatings started. I ran into someone with my food tray, and it went all over them. Everyone in the room ganged up on me and just kept hitting me until the owner - mistress, we had to call her - came down the stairs, and sent them all away. I thought she was saving me from them, but I was so unbelievably wrong. She became the worst of them all. There was nothing she wouldn't do - beat me; cut me; torture me; burn me;  _whip me_. Never once did she stop any of the other children from abusing me. All she did was add to it, and make it many, many times worse. There was nothing I could do. Although, there was one thing she never allowed, and I'm glad for that. She never let any of the older boys rape me - that was one line she would not allow crossed."

Digging my nails into my arm, I realised that I was shaking worse than earlier. This was easier done in theory where none of this was actually happening, and I could plan out how Jerome would react. The thing is, it is impossible to know how the explosive ginger would react in any given situation due to the inability to read the thoughts and emotions as they fly across his face. Hesitantly looking up, I am shocked to see tears overflowing from his evergreen eyes and his body shaking. This is one scenario that I never envisioned.

"Jerome," I breathe, moving slightly closer to him.

He shakes his head, his ginger hair moving wildly. "How can you even stand to be near me, Accalia? I'm a monster like them. I kill and hurt people because  _I like it_. It's fucked up, and I don't know how you can even tolerate being anywhere near me."

"You haven't hurt me."

" _But I want to_."

"You're a diagnosed  _psychopath_ , Jerome. Wanting to hurt people is part of that, but so is not feeling anything."

His tearful green eyes look up at me.

"You admitted to me that  _you love me_. Ginger, that is something psychopaths are incapable of doing. Just because you want to hurt me, doesn't mean that you will. Even if you do, I will  _not_ leave you. I swore on my  _life_ that I would not leave you, and I am sticking by my word. If I leave, then my life is in your hands to  _end_. Do you hear me, Jerome Valeska?"

Jerome nods, smiling slightly. It soon vanishes as he fully absorbs my story from moments ago, and his evergreen eyes move back to my arms. "I don't want to push any boundaries, but...."

I smile and look at the ground, knowing what he wants. "You want to know how bad it really looks."

"You don't have to."

Ignoring his words, I let out a shaky breath and untuck my vibrant red shirt. Jerome's eyes look away as I take it off, but they keep on flickering back to me until they just stay on me. I drop it onto the floor beside me and close my eyes as I slide my skirt off, kicking it to the side before crouching down and taking off my combat boots and socks, leaving me almost naked in front of my best friend and love. Hesitating, I go to take off the medical patches, but Jerome's lithe hands prevent me from doing so when he takes hold of my fingers, pulling me closer to him.

Closing my eyes, I try my best not to flinch as the ginger's fingers dance along my skin, taking in every ridge and curve; every lump and dip; every scar and burn mark. His fingers start to travel around to my back and I snap into action, gripping his wrists and shoving him backwards, causing myself to stumble slightly. My breathing shakes more, and his eyes widen at my reaction. Releasing him, I straighten and allow him to sit up again. Hesitating, I slowly turn around, baring my severely scarred back. At the sight, I hear his sharp intake of breath, and then I feel his fingers hesitantly graze one of the larger scars.

My skin quivers under his touch and my body instinctively bows away from it. Forcing myself to stay where I am, I turn back around to face Jerome, my head bowed and my eyes closed. Feeling his fingers brush along the large scar on my abdomen, I open my eyes and look down at him, seeing him look up at me with a curious and concerned expression. Lifting my own hand to trace the scar, I feel the ridges from where they had to stitch my stomach back together.

"One of the girls tried to gut me alive," I explain, running my trembling hand along the scar again. "The old woman wasn't happy with that, but she still grinned when she saw me. I was just the punching bag, and she only cared that I remained alive to be that one thing."

"If I ever get out of here, I am going to kill this bitch," Jerome promises, looking up at me with sincerity and anger blazing in his forest green eyes. "Or I'll make her wish for death."


	19. 15 ✮ Revelations

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

I finish lacing my combat boots up and knock on the door to the visitation room, telling Edward and Mr Scott that they can come back in. Sitting at the table beside Jerome, I wait for them to come in. Edward is the first one, and his expression is, well, devoid of emotion. I give him a smile and he instantly brightens, sitting down across from us as I place my satchel on the table between us. Pulling out the file we stole from the orphanage, I sit in on the table, not exactly wanting to open it.

Edward reaches across the table and lays his hand on mine. "You don't have to do this right now, Accalia. You can wait if you want."

Nodding, I reach for the folder and open it. "I know, but I need to do this. It's better now than never."

Jerome wraps his arm around my shoulder comfortingly and looks down at the open folder in front of him. Turning my focus fully to the folder, I scan the data for anything remotely interesting about myself that I never knew or anything concerning my birth parents. Apparently I have the same blood type as Jerome, but that's the only interesting thing on the first page. Flipping to the next one, my breath catches in my throat at the image attached to a handwritten piece of paper. It's a letter with a photograph of my parents.

Picking up the photo, I can't help but smile at their happy face. The darker skinned woman - my mother - is holding me like I am the most precious thing in the world, and the dark haired man - my father - is simply smiling at the both of us, not even realising that a photo is being taken. They both look so unbelievably happy, so it's hard to imagine why they gave me up. Turning to the letter, I know that I am about to find out.

_My little Accalia,_

_You must have so many questions, but I cannot give you all the answers you desire within this letter because I don't know who will read this before you get the chance to steal it from the bitch we have been forced to give you to. Yes, you read that right. We had no say in giving you up, and it breaks my heart to know that I will not see you grow up. Your father and I hate having to do this, but we've been given the choice to either give you up or kill you before night falls._

_We chose to save you from death and hopefully give you a life. If you're reading this, then know that we will meet each other soon. You have finally gotten out of that orphanage and have made your way to Gotham one way or another as every unfortunate soul does at least once in their life. Hopefully, you were adopted into a nice, loving family and have made so many good friends. I pray that you have lived a life that neither your father or I had, or could give to you._

_Now, before I say anything else. It is very important that you know this. Your father and I were raised as brother and sister, but we are of no relation to each other, as you can clearly see in the photo I have sent with this letter to you. It is of the day you were born - today, the 13th of December. Our beautiful baby was born on Friday the 13th, but do not let that impact on your life, sweetie. You're going to be a beautiful girl with some devilish charms that you will instinctively use to get your way._

_Accalia, listen closely. Your father and I will be returning to Gotham before your 18th birthday. If, by a slim chance, you are not living in Gotham, please find your way there. We are unable to seek you out, but, if you are to seek us out, no one can prevent you from doing so. Please, sweetie, come and find us when we return. You will know when we're there because things will begin to occur._

_Love always,_

_Tabitha and Theo Galavan, your mother and father._

I don't even realise that I am crying until Jerome pulls me in for a hug, rocking me back and forth and humming 'Jerome' by Zella Day, again. Edward moves around to my other side and rests his hand on my shoulder, not wanting to overstep his bounds with Jerome only a foot away. Pulling back from the hug, I sniffle and wipe my eyes, placing everything back into the folder, and then placing the folder back into my satchel.

"What did it say, little terror?" Jerome asks, wiping away a stray tear.

I clear my throat and swallow. "They're going to be in Gotham this year, but I'm not certain when. All my mother said was that 'things will begin to occur' when they're here."

"I do hate to break this to you again, Miss Gordon," Mr Scott says, actually looking and sounding sorry. "Your time is up. I arranged for you to have an extra half an hour this time because of that favour you asked for, but it was a one time only occurrence."

"I understand. Also, we need to do something about getting visitation hours extended. Three hours is not enough to catch up." I stand and slip my satchel onto my shoulder. "Can you get good behaviour extensions or something?"

"If Mr Valeska keeps up his good behaviour and compliance in therapy sessions, he will be able to get longer visitation hours. That's a rule here, and they do not go back on their word. Good behaviour allows the patients extra privileges."

Turning to Jerome, I smirk as he stands up, looking sheepish. "Well, psycho. Look who's doing what he's supposed to. Keep that up, and you can get extra privileges."

Jerome grips my waist and pulls me closer. "Watch that double meaning, little terror. Just you wait until I get a taste of what you have to offer. We'll both be begging for longer hours."

Mr Scott coughs abruptly and Jerome and I both smirk at him, and even Edward has to hide a smile at the guard's obvious discomfort. Turning back to the ginger, I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him tightly, not wanting to let him go. Surprisingly, he pushes me back and does something unexpected; he places his hands on the side of my face and kisses me like there's no tomorrow for us. Finding his hair, I wind my fingers into it and instinctively tug on it.

A small groan leaves him and he forces himself away from me, his evergreen eyes dark and promising. Smirking, I make my way over to the door and follow Edward out, shaking my hips to tease Jerome. A strangled sound leaves the ginger and I look over my shoulder at him with my smirk still present. He is gripping the top of the seat and his knuckles are beginning to turn white, his green eyes glaring at me with lust and annoyance.

"You're going to want to take care of your issue before you head back to the rec room," I inform the ginger, causing him to merely smirk at me. "Don't want those crazies seeing that the great psychopath feels simple pleasures such as lust."

Jerome cackles. "Oh, Cali. You, little witch, need to remember that I'll be out of here one day."

"I'm counting on it, ginger."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey superwolves.
> 
> So, from what you have read above, I have made it so that Tabitha and Theo aren't actually siblings - if they even really are in 'Gotham'. I mean, come on, they don't even look remotely related.
> 
> \- Chey xo -


	20. 16 ✮ Riddles and Dismembered Girlfriends

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

A couple days after the visit with Jerome, both Edward and myself find ourselves in a bit of a predicament. As in, there's a dead body on the floor of our apartment; the dead body of Miss Kristen Kringle. Edward unintentionally killed her last night, and I don't mean this new, confident Edward I've been seeing a lot of, I mean the awkward, stuttering Edward that also shot and killed Officer Tom Dougherty a few weeks back - and who, quite stupidly, kept his badge as a souvenir. Kristen found it last night after her and Edward had a minor make-out session, and she lost her cool. She tried to run away, and he tried to stop her, but, slightly unfortunately, he suffocated her.

The awkward, stuttering Edward cried himself to sleep last night, holding her broken body in his arms. Not even two hours later, I hear movement from his room. Frowning, I climb out of my bed and walk into the main room, watching as the tall male carelessly dumps his victim's body onto the bed. In the faint light, I can make out a crazy look in his eyes, and I know that the Edward is no longer in control of the vessel in front of me - it is Dark Edward in all his insane glory.

"Hey, Eddy," I call, leaning against the wall and causing him to jump slightly in surprise. "Don't tell me you killed your girlfriend. You did? Oh, what a pity. Do you need a hand getting rid of her body?"

Dark Edward chuckles, turning back to Kristen's body. "Accalia Gordon, I forgot you were staying here. To answer your question, I may require some assistance for... distributing parts of her body."

"Dismembering her, are we? Alright. Where do we start?"

**✮✮✮**

By morning, everything is in place. Kristen's body is slightly butchered and hidden away from Edward by myself and Dark Edward. Right now, Edward's vessel is laying on his floor right in front of his bed, completely dressed. I myself, am sitting at the small table beside the window, sipping a cup of coffee, and waiting for him to wake up. A sharp intake of breath and the rustling of clothes is all I need to hear to know that he is awake. One look is all it takes to know that this is Edward.

"Morning," I say, turning back to the window. I am going to let Dark Edward tell his other half what's going on. The strange thing is, I can see him. I guess it takes one insane person to be able to see another's demons.

"Rise and shine," Dark Edward cheers.

Edward groans. "What are you doing here? I banished you for good."

"Almost. Love of a good woman and all of that. Though, we both know how that turned out." He pulls a face. "Yikes."

"That was an accident. I'm not that man. I'm gonna make this right."

"See, I knew you'd wake up all boo-hooey. You probably have half a mind to turn yourself in. Luckily, I have the other half."

I roll my eyes and look over at the two. "Edward, are you kidding me? How the hell are you going to make this right? Kristen is dead. Accept it and move on."

Edward stares at me with shock, but soon turns back to his other half when he begins to speak.

"Do you like magic tricks?" Dark Edward asks with a grin.

"What?"

"Of course you like magic tricks. After all, I do." He claps his hands together. "Well, guess what? I can make a body disappear."

Edward gasps and shoots up from the floor, scanning the room for his dead girlfriend. "Where is she? Where is Ms. Kringle's body?"

"Open the envelope."

Edward picks up the envelope marked with a question mark and opens it, reading it out loud. " _'I hid her body while you were catching some Z's, you'll need a helping hand, so look for her initials down at the GCPD'_. You went to my work last night?"

"Well, technically, you did. I was just in the driver's seat, so to speak."

"How? You're a figment of my imagination. A projection of impulse. Nothing more."

A laugh breaks free from my lips and the two Edward's look at me. "A figment of your imagination, Edward? Then why the hell can I see Eddy?"

Dark Edward chuckles before turning to his better half. "Anyway, that was uncalled for."

"Uncalled for?" Edward all but screeches. "You hijacked my body while I was asleep and you stole my dead girlfriend."

"Okay. Yeah, that's true. But I'm doing this for your own good. If I was you... which, again, I sort of am... I'd get cracking."

Edward becomes confused.

"You do want to find the body first, right?"

**✮✮✮**

Half an hour later, Edward and I are down at the GCPD. He is sweating in anxiety and I am reclining on Jim's seat as I watch my friend run around the building like a headless chicken. Yawning, I put my feet up on the desk and watch him muttering to himself. Dark Edward appears next to me and smirks at his counterpart, watching him as I am.

"I know you can't talk to me here," Dark Edward says, glancing over at me. "So, just listen as I tell you what he's thinking and saying. It'll make this way more entertaining for you."

Shifting in my seat, I nod.

" _'...you'll need a helping hand. Look for her initials down at the GCPD.' 'Look for her initials down at the GCPD'? 'Look for her initials down at the GCPD.'_  I think he's getting it, Accalia.  _'Kristen Kringle. K.K. K.K.'_ "

Edward rushes over to the wall of fallen officers, and I can't help but smile. He is getting the idea."

" _'K.K., K.K., K.K.'_  He has the right idea."

He runs off and disappears from my line of vision.

"He's in the file room," Dark Edward chuckles. "Closer than he thinks."

A minute passes.

"Now he's checking the notification board. Ooh! So close, other me!" His expression changes into one of delight. "He's got it. Come on, Accalia. Time to see how this goes down."

Dark Edward vanishes and I shrug, climbing off the seat and walking to the vending machine. I watch as Dark Edward appears behind my stuttering friend, a sadistic smirk on his face. Leaning against the wall beside the machine, I chuckle quietly as Edward repeatedly presses the 'KK' button. Packets of 'Lady Fingers' fall from the slot and I shake my head at the irony. Dark Edward is very good.

As the final one falls, Kristen's hand is revealed. Edward instantly gasps and covers his mouth as Dark Edward lets out a laugh. Edward repeatedly feeds money into the vending machine and presses the button, but the hand gets stuck. He hits his hands against it and lets out a 'come on' in a frustrated voice. A cop begins to open the door and I feel my stomach drop. Edward is not meant to be caught. Even Dark Edward lets out a growl of annoyance, but soon grins again when the cop walks away.

Edward hits the machine and the hand falls down into the tray. He lets out a groan before reaching into the designated area and pulling out her purple and blue hand. Holding it for only a second, he quickly tucks it under his suit jacket and runs out, grabbing my hand and pulling me with him. I grin at Dark Edward before I turn my focus back to keeping up with Edward.

Back in the file room, I sit on the concrete floor, reclining against a row of boxes, as Edward studies Kristen's hand under his desk lamp. Dark Edward sits next to me and folds his hands on his stomach. Both of us are anxious for Edward to find the second riddle, and the rest of Kristen's body.

Suddenly Edward gasps and fiddles around with the hand before unfurling a piece of paper to read aloud. " _'I'm tired of hiding and want to be free. To locate her body, find the two things missing from me.'_ "

Dark Edward stands and walks over behind Edward. "The back of our head kind of looks funny. It's like the top of a pencil."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because... it's fun! And it's good for you."

"How is it good for me to be tortured? To be driven insane!"

"I'm trying to show you who you are. How have you not realised that yet? Though, to be honest, I'm surprised you haven't figured out this riddle yet. Should I have made it easier?

"You could start by using proper grammar. A period at the end of a sentence is..." His eyes widen. " _Find the two things missing from ME...'_  M, period, E, period. Oh, God. M.E... medical examiner. You didn't!"

Dark Edward smirks. "I did."

**✮✮✮**

Edward and I sneak into the M.E. lab, quietly shutting the door behind us. I move over to the bench and sit on it, Dark Edward appearing next to me and watching his twin. Edward looks around the room and then moves towards where they keep the dead bodies. He opens the one with the '?' on the card and slides the tray out, sighing in sadness. He caresses her face and then freezes as the door opens. I instantly look at who it is before relaxing slightly.

"Ed?" Dr Thompkins asks, surprised, as she walks in. "Accalia?"

Edward gasps. "Oh..."

"What are you doing?" she asks, picking something up from the cupboard

"Dr. Thompkins, hello. Uh, I'm just... double-checking notes for a Jane Doe case I'm working."

"Do you need help?"

"No! No, no, no. She's all gone. Or she's..."

Dr Thompkins gives him a weird look.

"I'm sorry, I'm... I'm all done with checking my notes."

"Uh, what notes?"

"It's all up here." He points to his head and lets out a quiet laugh. "Do you realise that by assigning simple mnemonic devices to case files, you can produce recall capacity equal to that of photographic or even eidetic memory?"

"Ed, what's going on?"

"Okay. Um, truth be told, uh... I was hoping to run into you here. Alone."

She gives him another weird look.

"It's Miss Kringle. Uh... We had a fight."

I'm sorry." She pats him on the shoulder. "Every relationship hits a rough patch now and then."

"And you've been so supportive. And I was hoping that maybe we-we could go grab a coffee and you could give me some advice."

"Uh, do you want to finish up what you were doing first?"

"No, no, no, no. I... I can come back another time."

"It's not like they're gonna go anywhere, right?" She laughs.

"You'd think so."

"Yeah, okay."

Dr Thompkins walks away and Edward's face twists in anger as he turns around and slides the tray back in. He follows her, but hesitates when he sees me with Dark Edward. All I do is smile and wave him off. I can find my way back to his place in the dark without any trouble.

**✮✮✮**

It turns out that I didn't need to leave. Only an hour later, Edward walks back into the M.E. Lab and goes straight to where Kristen's body is, sliding the tray out and staring into her cold, dead eyes. He straightens up and Dark Edward appears next to the door.

"I want to know why you did this," Edward demands.

"When Dr. Thompkins walked in the room, how did it feel?"

"I was terrified. She could have discovered the body."

"But she didn't. You got away with it."

"That's not the point."

"That is absolutely the point!" Dark Edward's voice echoes on the last word and I flinch slightly. He walks around the examination bench in the middle of the room, sending me a smirk before continuing. "You can still feel the rush, can't you?"

His form shimmers in and out of existence, and Edward rolls his shoulders.

"Coming so close to getting caught." Dark Edward blurs almost completely and reappears right behind Edward. "Knowing what you would have been forced to do if she had discovered the body, discovered what you had done."

His voice distorts on the last words and I feel excitement churn inside me as I jump off the bench, walking towards the two.

"Standing...standing at the edge of uncertainty and peering into the void. Now tell me, how did it feel?"

Dark Edward begins to merge with his counterpart, appearing and disappearing as Edward closes his eyes and almost convulses where he is standing. Moments later, with a grin plastered on my face, I watch as Edward opens his eyes. There's a spark of insanity in their pooling depths, and it suits him.

"Beautiful," Edward answers, his voice more smooth like Dark Edward's was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey superwolves.
> 
> So, I have kinda re-organised the series of events of 'Gotham' to best suit this story.
> 
> I know that Ed doesn't kill Kristen Kringle until after Jerome and the MANIAX are dead and gone, but I kind of needed another psycho to play around with while I keep Jerome and the MANIAX in Arkham for a little while longer.
> 
> Yes, I could have used Oswald, but I haven't introduced him into this story yet, and I didn't want to rush his relationship with both Ed and Accalia. Yes, Ed and Oswald are going to get together in this story. Yes, I ship it. Alright?
> 
> I am also going to be dragging out the entire MANIAX story line and adding in some more things that give them more of an edge. I feel as though they didn't really get enough screen time - considering there were only a few Arkham scenes, and they were only really in four or five episodes of the entire show.
> 
> \- Chey xo -


	21. 17 ✮ Arkham Breakout

**✮ j e r o m e ✮**

Rolling my eyes, I make my way over to the blonde that Sionis has his eye on. He desperately wants to get his hands on her, and I can't see why. Although, I must admit, I've heard that she has fire. Not to mention, she looks extremely familiar, but I can't place her. Shrugging to myself, I whistle a tune and slide into the seat across from the magazine reading blonde, putting on some charm.

"Hi, gorgeous," I say, smirking. "I'm Jerome."

She doesn't look up, flipping the page to her magazine. "Keep moving, ginger."

"Just being polite. So, what-cha in for?"

"Killing my parents."

Placing my hand on my chest, I play a charade. "Oh. Me, too. Well... Mum, anyhow. Liberating, right? Oh, what a rush!"

She looks over at me with a flat expression, but there is recognition in her eyes. So, we do know each other.

"Yeah, all righty, then." I drop my arms and motion to the table behind me. "You see the big handsome fella staring at you like you're fried chicken?"

The blonde looks over at Sionis and he smiles at her.

"Richard Sionis. He's a millionaire. Mm, got his own aeroplane. Got a boat with a hot tub on it. And he killed 25 people." I snort in amusement. "Just for fun."

"So what?"

"So, he likes you. He wants to be your friend."

"Hmm. Let me think." She pretends to think and then turns back to her magazine. "No."

I play the sincere card, hoping to get a reaction. "A girl needs a good friend in here. See, the guards, they don't care."

She looks at me with slight worry. Bingo!

"They figure bad things happen to bad people. And they happen all the time. All the time."

Dropping her magazine, she stands up and waves over at the table. "Hey, you. Hello? Baldy! Here, here. Hello, yes. Hi. Come here."

Aaron walks over and I grin, resting my head on my fist.

The blonde smiles cheerily up at him. "Hi."

"Hi," Aaron says, confused.

"My name is Barbara. Would you be my friend?"

He smiles. "Yes."

She rests her hand on his shoulder. "Hey, if someone here tries to hurt me... would you protect me?"

His face contorts in anger. "Yes."

"Thank you so much. Cutie." She turns away from him and sits back down, instantly picking up her magazine and reverting back to her original state. "Now I have a friend."

"You're bad," I tease.

"Yeah, so why don't you go make me a sandwich."

"Your friend is a gorilla. My friend runs the joint. And he can get you things that other people can't get you."

That gets her attention. "Things like what?"

I lean across the table. "Anything you need."

"I need a telephone," Barbara demands.

Days pass, and the blonde gets used to being around a giant lug, a rich prick, a nutty old cannibal, a schizophrenic rapist and poisoner, and me, a psychotic ginger. One day is different though. A funnily dressed man gets thrown into the rec room with us and starts a speech, drawing our attention for about five seconds before we go back to listening to one of Sionis' pathetic stories. Although, our attention is drawn back to the strange man when he starts choking and release a blue gas from his mouth.

Most of the inmates begin jumping to their feet and screaming, but I just sit at the table and laugh. Soon, enough of the gas gets into my system and darkness swallows me whole just as I see someone dressed in black walk into the rec room with a purpose in mind. Someone is doing something in this god-forsaken city, and I have a feeling that the fun is only just beginning.

**✮✮✮**

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

Snuggled up in one of Jerome's shirts, I am startled when Edward bursts into my room. "Fuck, Eddy. Are you trying to kill me too?"

He shakes his head and his glasses go flying. "No. There's just something that happened. Someone broke into Arkham and knocked everyone out with some kind of gas."

" _'Things will begin to occur.'_  Edward, it's them! They're here!"

Jumping up, I pull on a pair of jeans and then my Converse, not bothering to change out of Jerome's shirt as I pull on one of his jackets. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I run out of my room and out the door, faintly aware of Edward yelling for me to be safe. Halfway down the stairs, I run into two men dressed in black. Stopping right in front of them, their eyes glimmer in recognition. They're here for me, and I am hoping that it is to take me to my parents.

"Accalia Gordon?" one of them asks.

I quickly nod, anxious to find my parents.

"Come with us. Mr Galavan has decided that it is time for you two to meet."

Without hesitation, I follow the two men down the rest of the stairs and climb into a sleek black car. Too anxious to focus on anything, the trip feels to have ended as soon as it began. Pulling up outside a building, one of the men open the door for me, and I get out, thanking him as the other leads me inside. Walking into the elevator, I notice that one of the men push the 'penthouse suite' button. Swallowing, I feel my nerves begin to get the better of me. Meeting my birth parents is going to take a lot out of me, and I may even pass out from excitement or something like that.

The doors to the elevator open and I am greeted by the sight of several people in Arkham uniforms tied to what seem to be moving trolleys. Walking out, with the two men in black behind me, my eyes zero in on a ginger head. My eyes widen and I instantly run over to him, cupping his face in my hands and instinctively checking his pulse. My heart rate slows when I realise that he is just passed out, and I rest my head against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent.

"Ginger," I breathe. "Thank fuck you're alright."

"I do apologise for giving you such a scare, my dear," a man says, making me spin around and hold up my switchblade. "It's alright. There's no need to be worried about either you, your friend or your foster mother being harmed."

"Who the hell are you, and why is my ginger tied to a fucking trolley?"

"Accalia, I'm not surprised you don't recognise me."

Slowly, everything begins to click into place in my mind. Dark hair and deep blue eyes; the familiar body shape from the photo I stared at every night; the crinkles by his eyes when he smiles. It's my father. At that, I lower my switchblade and put it away, my eyes burning slightly as my feet carry me across the marble floor and throw me into his awaiting arms. His warmth surrounds me as he wraps his arms around me, holding me close and squeezing me tightly.

"Dad," I whisper, the word foreign on my tongue.

"Theo?" a woman calls, heels hitting the floor as she walks into the room. "When is Accalia-"

She cuts off and I turn around, pulling myself out of my father's hold. Her hazel eyes are wide with disbelief and shock. Moving towards her, I wrap my arms around her middle and bury my face in her shirt. Her own arms wrap around me and she begins to sob, her knees giving out and causing us to fall to the floor in a puddle of tears and sobs. Even without having known her, I know that, without a doubt, that this woman loves and cares for me without end.

"Mum," I sob, trembling in her hold.

"It's alright, my sweet Accalia," she promises.

My father looks over at the row of former Arkham Asylum inmates when Jerome lets out a low groan. My mother and I take that as our que to get up and move out of the way. So, we head around behind the line of six inmates just as they all begin to come to. I watch as Jerome's head turns, his eyes obviously scoping the place out for any sign of danger, and a way out.

"What the hell is this place?" one of the inmates ask.

"Ain't Arkham, anyhow," I hear Jerome say. "Things are looking up."

"Welcome, everyone," my father says, walking out from beside the oldest man, my mother and I following him. "My name is Theo Galavan. This is my sister Tabitha, and my daughter Accalia."

"Oh, my God, look at that," Arnold whispers, fidgeting in his restraints.

"Yeah, I got to get my hands on that," the curly haired man salivates, making me cringe. Cannibal.

"Little terror," Jerome says, grinning down at me. "How did I not guess that you'd be in on this?"

I shake my head, looking up at him. "I wasn't. That's why. I actually not long got here."

"I understand," my father continues, cutting our conversation short and sending a glance at my mother, then me, as he walks along in front of the former inmates. "You're feeling confused, scared, a little groggy, but, please, relax. Today is the first day of a wonderful future for all of you. If you want it."

"Who are you?" Barbara asks.

"Well, now, the question is who are you? The world sees criminal lunatics. I see brilliance. I see charisma. And power. I see power."

"Yes. Exactly, my man. Oh, that is so spooky. That is me to a T," Jerome says with a bone-chilling smirk. "These other bozos, oh, I don't know, but, you're singing my song."

"Quiet, Jerome," the oldest man snaps, causing me to glare at him. "Keep talking."

My father rolls his eyes, returning to his speech. "Imagine, a group of brilliant outlaws like yourselves, each selected for their unique ability, all working together as a team. Imagine the synergy. Imagine the impact. Gotham would tremble before you."

"Well, that sounds fabulous, but I am not a brilliant outlaw," Barbara muses. "I just have...mm...issues."

"You have ferocity and beauty and desire and that's enough." My father places his hand under my foster mother's chin and tilts her head up. "Come with me, Barbara. Whatever you want in the world, it's yours."

"Theo? That's your name, right? Theo?" the oldest man calls, causing my father to give him a look of annoyance. "You're getting way ahead of yourself, here. First of all, keep your hands off her. Second, this whole 'magic team'? I gotta pass. I don't take orders. Good luck on everything, though. It's an intriguing concept."

"This is very disappointing."

"Oh. Fair play. You want a reward for busting us out of Arkham. I am grateful. How's a million bucks sound? Pretty good, huh?"

I roll my eyes and shake my head, a grin covering my face. "Fucking idiot."

"I can get it for you today, as soon as I hit the street."

"Money's not the concern," my father sighs. "Oh, I had such high hopes for you. I didn't anticipate sexual jealousy. That always poisons the well. You have to go. Tabitha and Accalia will see you out."

My mother cuts his restraints and the man walks down the row towards Barbara, and the door. "Miss Kean is coming with me."

"Oh, she doesn't want to go where you're going."

My mother draws her whip and snaps it forward, wrapping it around the oldest man's throat, and then drags him to the ground. Getting the idea, I flick out my switchblade and launch myself on top of him, repeatedly stabbing him as he trashes under me. Jerome's psychotic laugh echoes in my ears and a small giggle escapes me, mingling with the sound. Once the man is dead, I look up at my father with a grin, and then move my gaze to Jerome, seeing his eyes sparkle with delight

"Anyone else want to leave?" my father asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey superwolves.
> 
> I wasn't planning on uploading the following chapters today because I'm sick as all fuck, but I finished them, so I thought "Why the hell not?" So, here you go.
> 
> After all, I do have some big plans for Jerome, Accalia and the MANIAX. Also, I have some plans for just Jerome and Accalia, if you're getting what I'm serving.
> 
> \- Chey xo -


	22. 18 ✮ Reunions

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

Jerome speeds down the hallway, cackling like the maniac he is. Rolling my eyes, I walk after him, hoping that he hasn't broken anything of his or my father's. A loud crash sounds and a sigh escapes me as I round the corner, crossing my arms at the sight of the ginger sprawled out on the ground with a wide grin on his face. At least it was only a table he ran into. Smiling, I look down at him and shake my head in amusement before walking over and pulling him up off the floor.

Another laugh escapes him as he gets to his feet and takes off again, but this time the run is a lot shorter. As soon as he rounds the corner, he runs straight into Aaron. Chuckling, I skip over to the two. Smiling up at Aaron, he grins down at me as I give him a small punch on the arm. Slowly, the larger man raises his own fist and mimics my movement, lightly brushing my arm, not wanting to harm me. Over the past few days, Aaron and I have grown close, and he is more like an older brother than a murderer.

Grinning up at me, the ginger cackles and sits up. "Man, I should have known you had the gorilla wrapped around your little finger, Cali."

Shaking my head, I snort in amusement. "He's the older brother I never had. He's a sweetie, and he'll kill anyone who tries to harm myself or Barbara."

"I'd do that too. Well, anyone who tried to harm  _you_. Not too sure about blondie."

"Is that because she can take care of herself?"

"You're makin' sound like you can't take care of yourself." Jerome rolls his eyes and stands up, straightening his clothes. "Which we both know is utter bullshit, little terror. You kill people, and that means you can take care of yourself - no need for me to worry about that."

Aaron wanders away when I wave my hand, and I move closer to the psychotic ginger. "Don't test my patience, ginger. I might just go stay with Eddy and not visit."

"You really think you can manage that, love? To stay away from moi? Be reasonable."

"I think it's you that's going to be struggling, ginger."

Watching his eyes widen in disbelief, I walk backwards away from him with a smirk on my face. The green of his eyes turns dark and he walks toward me, causing my pace to quicken. The chilling grin on his face makes a giggle escape me as I turn on my heel and speed down the hall. A psychotic laugh follows me and his feet fall faster, making adrenaline pump through my body. The chase is something that has never failed to make my gut churn with excitement.

Sliding along on the marbled floor, I look over my shoulder to see the ginger staring me down with a predatory look. Shuddering, I turn away from him and slide past the main room, waving to my parents and simultaneously picking up my satchel. Swinging to the side, I throw myself into the open elevator and press the 'ground floor' button, grinning at the look on Jerome's face as he skids to a stop in front of the closing doors. His eyes glimmer in excitement, but there's an underlying layer of sadness.

"I'll be back soon, ginger," I promise just as the doors close. "Call if you need anything!"

The elevator doors click together and my ginger love disappears from sight, a curse being the last thing I hear from his lips as the elevator drops to the ground floor. Smiling to myself, I waltz out of the open doors and head towards the front door. Surprisingly, a guard stops me on my way out. Looking up at the man with annoyance, I watch as he winces away from me. Swallowing down his fear, he clears his throat and straightens his body in an attempt to regain control of the situation.

"What in hell's name do you want?" I spit at the former friend of mine. "I doubt there is anything you can say to me that is worth listening to."

"Accalia, please," Travis begs.

"No. You lied to me - more than once - and you pretended that you knew nothing about what was going on in the god forsaken fucking city! Burn in hell, you dick."

"Cali!"

Turning on my heel, I stalk out of the building, his pleas echoing in my ears. He knew everything that was occurring in Gotham, and he never told me - even when I asked. Travis is one of my father's higher up people, and he was paid to keep an eye on me, and then report back to my father. So, really, he wasn't anyone important to me - just someone paid to be my friend. That does explain why he was basically the only friend I had other than Jerome, and Mandy.

Growing up after Jim and Barbara picked me up from the orphanage, I couldn't make any friends. The children I was in school with were so different to the ones I grew up with, and they pushed me to the side because I was different. I was covered in scars of all kinds, and they saw me as a monster who deserved nothing but their harshest judgement and sentence. Once I came to the primary school in Gotham, the children there started abusing me - physically, mentally and emotionally.

No friends came from there, and that meant I was still alone. Well, I was only for a few more weeks. To celebrate them adopting me, Barbara and Jim both took time off their daily lives and decided to take me to Haly's Circus. The noise had caused me to freak out to begin with - all the screams of laughter and happiness and shock. It took both Barbara and Jim a little while to calm me down, but they did manage to convince me to give the circus a chance.

So, I did.

That, of course, is where I met my ginger.

**✮ n i n e ✮  
** ****✮ y e a r s ✮  
** ** ****✮ a g o ✮** **

I watch in fascination as the acrobats twirl around high above, graceful and practised beyond compare. Their glittering and glimmering outfits catch the light and create patterns on the walls of the tent. I feel like I am in a scene from a movie, and that I am about to be whisked away into an adventure of magic and untold beauty and danger. My eyes follow the acrobats, but my interest begins to be pulled by the scattered light on the tent. Following them, my eyes meet shining green ones staring directly at me.

Staring at him with curiosity, I drop from my seat and make my way over to the green-eyed boy. Jim gives me a glance, assessing the situation, before turning back to the acrobatics. Running into a few people, and earning a more than a few choice words and threats, I finally stand in front of the boy, eyes running over his body to see if he meant me any harm. Too quickly for my liking, he sticks his hand out, causing me to flinch back from his outstretched hand.

"I'm Jerome," the young boy says, grinning at me. "What's yours?"

Giving him a wary look, I slowly take his hand and shake it. "My name's Accalia."

"Pretty."

"You think so? I don't really like it."

"It's unique." The ginger begins to walk away. "Just like you."

Eyes widening, I follow after him, not wanting to be left alone.

"So, you here with your parents?"

"My adoptive parents. I don't know who my real parents are."

"Awesome." Jerome grins at me over his shoulder, and then grabs my hand. "Come on. I wanna show you something."

My eyes widen in shock as he begins running, tugging me along behind him. Forcing my legs to move faster, I keep up with the energetic ginger with minimal hassle. Laughter echoes in my ears and the hair on the back of my neck rises when I see the grin on Jerome's face, laced with malice and promise of harm. Swallowing down my fear, I feel excitement bubbling in my gut, and a smile works its way onto my face.

His grin widens and we jerk to a stop in front of a trailer, my mind spinning. Jerome runs inside, and I take a step forward, making a move to follow him, only to freeze when a pained yell leaves the trailer. My skin crawls, but I can't stop myself from moving forward, peering into the trailer. Standing over the small ginger is an older woman, and she is brandishing a broken beer bottle. Eyes widening, I back away from the sight and run into another body.

Jerking forward, I stumble and a hand quickly grasps my wrist, preventing me from falling. Shuddering out a breath, I look up at the person and go still when I see the face of the young ginger boy staring down at me with concern. Glancing back at the trailer and then turning to the new ginger, I tear my wrist from his grip and step back, instantly wary of the newcomer.

His eyes turn sad at my reaction. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Shaking my head, I shakily point at the trailer.

"She's at it again? Damn it."

Nodding, I look at the trailer, my fists clenched and anger boiling within me. Giving up, I pick up the closest object, which turned out to be a plank of wood of all things, and walk into the trailer, the second ginger watching me with wide eyes. Jerome's eyes stare at me with fear when he sees me standing behind the woman, and they beg me to leave.

Grinning, I shake my head and raise the wood plank. Swinging it forward, it smashes into the woman's side and she falls forward, a screech leaving her lips. Jerome scuttles out of the way of her falling form, and moves over to me, smirking as he stares down at her prone form. Footsteps sound behind me and I spin around, holding the plank ready to defend myself, but freezing when I see the other ginger.

Dropping the plank, I move behind Jerome and stare at the duplicate. "Who are you?"

Jerome looks over at the other ginger and his smirk gives way to annoyance. "So, you show up now? Of course you're not here when she's beating me senseless. What a good brother you are."

The second ginger bristles at the jab. "It's not like I do it on purpose, Jerome."

"Sure."

Moving out from behind Jerome, I walk over to the ginger. "Who are you?"

His green eyes turn to me and his gaze softens. "Jeremiah. I'm Jerome's twin. Yourself?"

"I'm Accalia. It's nice to meet you, Jeremiah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey superwolves.
> 
> So, here's the next chapter. Jeremiah has finally been introduced - I was getting anxious and ready to put him in this story. No, it's not the Jeremiah we know from Gotham, but it is a Jeremiah.
> 
> The next chapter is going to be a bit boring, but chapter twenty is going to be a good one if all goes to plan.
> 
> \- Chey xo -


	23. 19 ✮ Security Cameras and Memories

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

After waking up in Jerome's arms the past few days, waking up alone in my room in Edward's apartment is disorientating, to say the least. The room is familiar at least, and the familiar humming of my friend fills my ears, making a smile spread across my face. Rolling onto my back, the grey, flannelette sheets cushion my body and shroud it in warmth. Sighing, I close my eyes for another moment, imagining that nothing has changed over the past two months, and that Jerome got away with killing his mother.

Shaking my head, I push myself out of the bed, cringing as my warm feet hit the cool floor. Padding out to the main room, I lean against my door frame and watch as my friend moves around the small kitchen area of his apartment. The smell of bacon and pancakes reach my nose, and then my stomach lets out a gurgling growl, alerting the riddle man to my presence. All he does is give me a brief look over his shoulder and then turn back to his cooking, chuckles leaving him.

Ignoring him, I walk over to the table and open the laptop sitting there, typing in the password and waiting for the feed to show up on the screen. Coloured rectangles appear on the screen, and I roll my eyes when I see Jerome being an utter idiot practically inhaling his breakfast. Beside him, Aaron slowly and silently eats his food, his eyes downcast and a sad look on his face. Arnold is chattering to himself, a bowl on top of his head, and his food hardly touched. Across from the ginger, Barbara is leaning against my mother, slowly eating her food, and all the while being flirtatious. The cannibal is no better than Jerome with his food, but, in the brunette's case, there is food all over his face and the table.

Edward places a mug beside me, and then a plate. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Accalia. You better eat it."

Looking up at him, I raise my eyebrows.

"Right. Who am I talking to? You love food."

He smiles down at me, his slightly crooked teeth making me grin right back.

"Thanks, Eddy."

Turning away, he pauses when he hears me speak.

"No glasses?" I turn my gaze back to the camera feed. "Broken? Lost? Can't be fucked wearing them?"

He sits across from me and places his plate and mug on the table, clearing his throat. "No. I, uh, have my contacts in today. I wanted to, uh, try something different. Why? Does it look bad?"

"Eddy, I doubt you would look bad covered in trash. You're just one of those people who look good in anything. Just go with it."

A chuckle escapes Edward and a smile grows on my face, my gaze pinned on the camera feed on the screen of my laptop. Watching as the ginger gets up from the table, taking his stuff to the kitchen and washing it, I can't help but think about how normal he seems when he's not in a psychotic mode or mood. Then again, 'normal' is just a social construct that is allowing individuals to persecute others for being different and not following the norms or 'regulations' of 'normalcy'.

Before I know it, both my plate and cup are empty, and my stomach feels bloated. Sighing, I close the laptop and move to the sink, my dirty crockery in hand. Submerging my hands in the borderline scalding water, I close my eyes in relaxation and recline my head back, flickers of pain erupting in my right hand. It washes over me and I feel myself sink into the addictive feeling. The water begins to burn my skin and a small groan escapes my lips, alerting Edward to what I am doing.

Almost instantly, his pale hand encompass my lower arms and pull my hands and wrists from the sink water, his eyebrows knitted together with worry. "What was the meaning of this? Surely nothing recent has pushed you to harm yourself further."

Gritting my teeth, I pull my hands away from him, pressing them to my chest. "Sorry, Eddy. I just..."

"You needed a small release. I get it. Be safe alright?"

"Always."

**✮✮✮**

Rolling onto my back, a puff of air escapes me. My mind is swimming with memories now that I remember who the other ginger was that I spent the winter months after my eighth birthday. That first day I met them, a strong bond was formed; one that withstood the months apart when they were travelling, and one I never saw an end to. The strange thing was, I wasn't sure that they felt the same way.

**✮ e i g h t ✮  
✮ y e a r s ✮  
✮ a g o ✮**

Giggling at the clowns tripping over and hurting themselves, I feel my interest being drawn away from them. My eyes search the tent, and land on a pair of ginger twins. A toothy grin breaks out on my face and, jumping from my seat, I run over to the two. Their vibrant green eyes go straight to me, and a chilling grin appears on the slightly taller ones face, an answering one appearing on mine. Opening his arms, I run straight into them, wrapping my arms around him.

"Little terror," Jerome greets, allowing me to back away in confusion.

"'Little terror'?" I ask, staring up at him.

"Most certainly," Jeremiah informs. "You saved my brother, and, in doing so, you gave our mother a lovely scar. Such a nice job, Accalia."

"I didn't mean to."

Jerome chuckles, sending chills down my spine. "If you didn't, then we're all utterly sane."

Jeremiah rolls his eyes at his twin, turning away and walking out into the winter air. Staring after him, I feel a sickening feeling churning in my gut. It worsens as Jerome grips my wrist and pulls me after him, my legs barely keeping up with his longer strides. People are screaming in happiness, and the gut twisting scent of vomit, candy and smoke makes me gag slightly. Jeremiah's nowhere in sight now, but, as well stop outside his and Jerome's trailer, I can hear the low murmur of a man and woman talking.

"He tried to burn him alive, Lila," the man hisses in anger. "Your son is not safe with that  _monster_ hanging around."  

The woman, Lila, sighs, sadness evident in her tone. "They're both my children, Zachary. I can't let you take one away."

"Jerome held a  _knife_  to Jeremiah's throat not even a week ago. On their birthday!"  

The ginger beside me clenches his jaw in anger and his grip tightens on my wrist, causing me to squirm in his hold. He is scaring me. His fire-filled emerald eyes turn to me and he pulls me away from the trailer; away from people; away from witnesses. Out on a small hill, he releases me and kicks the ground, sending dirt flying everywhere. A strangled sound escapes his lips, and it sounds like a mixture of a sob and a cry of anger or rage. Watching him for a moment, I build up my courage.

"Ginger," I murmur, walking over to him and gently taking his hand.

"That bastard wants to take my brother away," Jerome snarls, his voice deep and sinister.

"Did you really hurt him?"

"I didn't do anything to him that he didn't deserve."

I release his hand and step away. "So, you hurt him."

His green eyes look down at me and he sighs. "Listen, little terror, there's a lot you don't know about my brother and I. We're both... not normal; we're weird, and kind of crazy. My brother is not innocent in any of this, and he knows that all too well. He just hasn't been caught."

"Crazy? You don't look crazy."

"That's the bonus, Cali. Us crazy people, we don't look it - and it's not easily found out."

Before I can reply, I catch sight of a man pulling Jeremiah along behind him. My eyes widen and a small cry escapes my mouth. Jerome's eyes follow my line of sight and he lets out a growl of anger. Without hesitating, he runs over to his twin and the man, eyes blazing with anger and protectiveness. Following behind him, my small feet thud against the hard ground and I catch up to him with minimal hassle. Instantly, Jerome's hands grip onto the older man's wrist and tugs him back towards the circus.

Gritting my teeth, I follow his actions. Instead of taking hold of the man, I wrap my fingers around Jeremiah's arm and pull. Jeremiah helps me, his face contorted in pain. A cry escapes Jerome and he tumbles to the ground, clutching his cheek. Anger floods through me like last year when his mother was standing above him, and I launch myself at the man. He curses in pain as I bury my nails into his bare leg, but my victory is short lived. He kicks me off and I land on the hard ground, my shoulder popping out of place.

Without a word, the man adjusts his hold on Jeremiah and continues on his way out of Haly's Circus. Trembling, I manoeuvre my shoulder back into place, letting out a short, sharp scream at the pain that flares. Jerome instantly moves over to me and checks me over for bruises, but his burning green eyes never stray from the shrinking form of the older man that just took his brother away.

"He's not coming back, is he?" I ask in a small voice.

Jerome shakes his head, looking down at me. "No."

"We had so much fun together last year, and we can't even have any this year because he's been taken away."

"I know, little terror. I do. We'll be alright though. I promise."


	24. 21 ✮ Sensations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, superwolves!
> 
> So, I've decided to post this chapter and the next as a trial run.
> 
> Also, before you start panicking about there being a missing chapter, I am aware that chapter 20 has not yet been posted, and there is a reason for that. It is due to the fact that one of my friends that I met here on Wattpad is writing that chapter for me, but they are currently dealing with life outside of social media.
> 
> I'm not sure when it's going to be uploaded, but, if you have this story in your library, then you will be notified when chapter 20 is uploaded.
> 
> \- Chey xo -

**✮ a c c a l i a ✮**

Sunlight streams in through the open curtains, pulling me from my sleep. It's warm, laying here beside Jerome, and I don't want to move an inch today. I feel as though today is going to be a long one with no fun, and that's something I want to avoid. Beside me, Jerome rolls over to face me, green eyes glimmering tiredly at me, a sheen of sleep still dusting the vivacious colour of his iris'. His hand reaches up and he trails his fingers down my arm, rising and falling with each scar and burn and dint they cross on their path.

I close my eyes and fight the urge to shy away from the ginger's touch, my flesh trembling under the rough skin of his fingers. His touch vanishes just before my wrist and I open my eyes, only to meet his worried evergreen eyes. He sits up and keeps his worried gaze on me, the grey sheet slipping down to reveal his battered body. My eyes flicker over the scars decorating his pale flesh and my fingers itch to run over them; to feel the horror he has been through in his eighteen years of life.

A small smile grows on his face at the twitch of my fingers. "It's okay, Cali."

Sitting up, I hold the sheet to my bare chest with one hand and allow my right to brush over the dips and rises in his skin. Thankfully, they're all healed and a couple of months old. I've always had a strange fascination with the decorations on his body, and I have a feeling that it's because I have studied the map that is my own scarred and torn body from beginning to end more times than I can count; studied my story from the moment I stepped foot into the orphanage until the day I met Jerome and Jeremiah almost a decade ago.

However, that's only the worst of the scars. The smaller scars that mar my body are self-inflicted, and they run deep, mixed in with the marks inflicted by my tormentors for almost half my life. As my fingers brush over a particularly demented looking scar, Jerome flinches under my hand. I instantly revert back into the abused child I once was, gripping the sheet tighter and moving further away from the sudden movement. At my actions, the green-eyed boy tenses and his deep eyes stare at me with further worry.

"Accalia." The use of my full name drags me from my 'episode' as I've come to call them ever since I returned to that orphanage. "It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you."

I nod, licking my dry lips and then biting the inside of my cheek. "I know, ginger. It's just that, ever since I went back to that orphanage..."

"PTSD." His green eyes darken and his hand fists the grey sheet. "I know what that's like. They never fully go away, and that's one thing that will never change."

"Am I even more fucked up to you?" I ask in a small voice, his burning green eyes turning to stare at me, but I don't look at him. Instead, I look at the bed. "Before you knew what I had been through, did I seem as broken then as I do now?"

In the blink of an eye, his hand darts out and grabs my wrist before pulling me over to him, his arms encircling my middle and holding me flush against him in a tight hug. Warmth radiates from his being and soaks into me, making me relax in his hold and close my eyes as I melt into the hug. Contentment flows through me, but it's broken by my blonde, murderess adoptive mother walking into the room, slamming the doors open without regard for either the walls or the privacy of myself and Jerome.

Her blue eyes glimmer with amusement as she takes in our position and the clothes littering the floor, and then they meet my blue-green eyes. They seem to be saying "I told you so", and that causes me to deadpan at her, all traces of emotion fleeing my face and a huff of irritation leaving my lips. Jerome rolls his eyes and releases me, standing up and walking over to his wardrobe. At that, Barbara's eyes widen and dart to me with a wink before she skips out of the room.

"You flashed my adoptive mother," I laugh, sitting up on the bed and watching Jerome as he tugs on a pair of jeans over his underwear. "What are you going to do next? Strip in front of my mother and father, or James Gordon?"

Jerome looks over at me, mischief glimmering in his eyes. "How about the whole of Gotham?"

Snickering, I stand and walk over to the wardrobe, ignoring the feeling I get from his lustful green eyes flickering over my broken body. Pulling on a pair of underwear and hooking up my bra, I am about to slip on a shirt when someone walks into the room. A startled cry leaves them and I instantly turn around, meeting the horrified brown eyes of my mother. One hand is clapped over her mouth, and the other is over her heart. Beside me, Jerome sighs, and I swallow harshly.

"Mum." My voice comes out almost broken, and I watch as tears fill her eyes. "I'm alright. I promise."

My mother shakes her head. "No. We did this to you; we sent you away and this happened. We could have prevented this from happening if only we'd fought harder."

Jerome walks over to my distraught mother and places a hand on her shoulder. "Tabitha, Accalia is the strongest person I know. If she weren't strong, she would have caved years ago and she would not be here today."

A phantom stinging pain erupts in my chest at his words. He and I both know that I have caved once or twice, but he never knew why until a few weeks ago.

"She's not ready to tell you what has happened to her, even if she says she is. I've known her since we were six and seven, and I can read her like a book. Although, I have to admit, I didn't know any of what happened to her until a few weeks ago."

My mother looks at him with tear and horror filled eyes.

"Trust me when I say that you want time to prepare yourself for her past; her life in the orphanage."

**✮✮✮**

Sitting with my knees pressed against my chest in front of the window in an empty room, I find myself falling into the spiral of my memories. The ones that decide to visit are the ones from when Jerome was incarcerated in Arkham Asylum; the ones that hold the secret to my future. The proposition I was given swirls in my mind and I find myself biting my lip, the book I was reading completely forgotten as I assess the possible outcomes of accepting the deal.

During those weeks, I was visited by Carmine Falcone and Victor Zsasz several times. Apparently, Falcone had heard about the murder of the intruder in Barbara's apartment, and the murder of Lila Valeska. He knew I'd played a hand in both acts. Falcone offered me a place by his side; a place in the ranks of his assassins; a place beside Victor Zsasz himself. Zsasz gave me a twisted smile and explained that he'd witnessed my encounter with the intruder, instantly taking a liking to me and wanting to train me as an assassin.

"What are you thinking about, little terror?" Jerome asks, sauntering over to me and dropping into another chair. "You look so far away today."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"Is it your mother?"

I shake my head. "It's something I haven't told anyone, because I haven't decided yet."

"Ooh. Interesting. Care to tell little old me?"

"Falcone came to me while you were in Arkham, and he offered me a job." Jerome's eyes shine with curiosity and I find the next lot of words spilling out of my mouth without hesitation. "He wants me to become an assassin with Zsasz, and I think I'm going to take him up on his offer."

He lets out a psychotic laugh, making my eyes flicker to him. His evergreen eyes are bright with glee and his body is trembling almost uncontrollably. I find a strange sensation tingle in my body - as though my skin is tightening. Ever since I first heard about Zsasz and his work, I have wanted to become an assassin and work side-by-side with him. Now that I know who my parents are, I know why I am the way I am, and why I want the things I want.

 


End file.
